Pureblood Secrets
by FunkieCookie
Summary: The pureblood society was riddled with secrets; secrets that were only revealed at the deathbed of the patriarch. In one night, Lucius discovered that Draco was to be groomed as the Dark Lord's heir and Nott Sr. had quietly deposited their squib child in the muggle world to live as... a Granger. No one can take Draco away from him, not even the Dark Lord. HG Pureblood Fic (Now Yr3)
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter One: Secrets**

The air surrounding the Malfoy Manor seemed more ominous than usual, making the premise more serious and daunting. The elaborate wrought iron gates were closed, signaling that the usually sporadic house calls from friends of their social circle were not welcomed at this time… and for good reason. The Malfoys were preparing for a death in the family. In the past month, Malfoy Senior's health deteriorated rapidly, and even the best medi-witch that money could buy would not be able to stop Abraxas Malfoy's liver and kidneys from failing.

Abraxas sighed a weak breath. Death was near, and today is the day, he thought. Today will be the day to end it.

Malfoy Senior adjusted his head on the pillow to get a better glimpse at the view beyond the bay windows in his master suite. He knew that house elves were busy making the final preparation of the rectangular grave site behind the manor. He tried to crane his head for a better look, but his head quickly dropped back onto the pillow, strength leaving him.

"Wonky," he croaked feebly. With a pop, Wonky, the house elf who served the Malfoy house since Malfoy Senior was a mere boy, rushed to his master's side with large, inquisitive eyes, ready to do his master's bidding (perhaps his last).

"Yes… master?" he stuttered timidly.

"Call Lucius," Abraxas breathed.

"Right away, sir." Wonky popped away and Abraxas closed his eyes. He didn't need to wait long, in less than a minute, Lucius burst in through the door and with a few long strides, he was at his father's bedside.

"You called, Father?" Lucius voice was calm and devoid of any emotions. While it pained him to see his father in such a vulnerable state, Malfoys were taught and trained at a young age to hide their emotions. The more you reveal on your face, the easier it is for enemies to read it and use it against you.

Abraxas, even as weak as he was, threw the Malfoy trademark smirked and gave a small nod of approval. His son was ready to carry on the prestigious family name. There was no doubt about it. He was also comforted by the fact that Lucius and Narcissa already produced an heir. His only regret would be not having the chance to spoil his grandson rotten. In fact, young Draco would have no memory of his grandfather, since the boy was not even five months old.

"Cast a silencing charm, boy" he ordered. Lucius quickly drew out his wand, and with a quick flicks, all windows were shut, doors were locked, and the silencing charm was in place.

"There are some… secrets… that I need to pass on to you, my boy."

Lucius eyes widened for a fraction of a second before returning to his stoic expression. "Judging from the fact that you asked me to seal ourselves in, these are secrets sealed with an unbreakable vow…" He looked into his father's eyes and added "and a secrecy clause?"

Abraxas nodded and confirmed his son's suspicions.

Today was the day that Abraxas Malfoy will die. Not at the hands of his failing organs, but because he willingly disclosed the details under the secrecy clause embedded within the unbreakable vow to a third party. The vows that he had made with Voldemort and Nott Senior will take his life, but at least he will die without taking the burden of the secrets to his grave.

Lucius's fair complexion paled as his father closed his eyes in concentration.

"Quickly, grab the vials on my night stand" he said.

Lucius used silent magic to summon the vials over and snatched it in mid-air. He uncorked the small cork just in time as some silvery liquid was emitted from the corner of his father's eye. Lucius positioned the opening next Abraxas's face, and watched as the liquid streamed in.

"Get another." Abraxas struggled to get the words out and Lucius quickly did as he bade.

As soon as Lucius put the stopper into the second vial and sent it aside, Abraxas summoned the last ounce of his energy to clasp his son's hands in his and drew him in close.

"Listen to what I have to say, my boy. I know I don't say this enough, if at all, but I'm proud of you. Protect our family from _him_ at all costs."

Lucius swallowed hard. He knew that his father was warning him against the Dark Lord, who had disappeared just a few weeks ago, at the hands of an infant no less.

"He…he will surely rise again," Abraxas took a deep breath, as if to prepare to speak his next words all in one go, and held Lucius's hands even tighter. "He wants to use our young Draco as his heir. He will destroy him from the inside and use him as his vessel..."

Without warning, Abraxas released Lucius hands as if they were hot coals and made to clutch at his heart. He was in pain and Lucius could not hide behind his mask anymore. His eyes flashed with worry and his voice cried with urgency, "Father! Father, what's wrong? Where does it hurt?" All the while, he knew that there was no way to prevent the inevitable tortuous death that befalls on one that reveals a secret to another that was not privy to the information.

Abraxas gritted his teeth and continued, though his face was contorted with so much pain. "And watch over my god-child's daughter…protect her in my place"

This was news to Lucius. "You had a god-child?" he asked incredulously.

Malfoy Senior was panting short breaths at this point, his life force slowly slipping away. "N…Nott," he stuttered. "had a squib child. He chose to abandon him in the muggle world, and he eventually wedded Greengrass' squib daughter and have a daughter of their own."

His father heaved and coughed out some blood. His last plea came out in a mere whisper. "Please, look after them for me, he is a Nott through and through, not… a _Granger_."

Abraxas's eyes rolled to a close and his hand fell limp against his side, lifeless.

Lucius was stunned and knowing that he was the only living soul inside that room, he let out an anguished roar and let the tears stream down his face. Merlin knows that he can't let a single tear fall during his father's wake.

* * *

 **A/N: This idea has been stuck in my head for awhile. Please let me know what you think!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two: Hermione**

While the actual death of Abraxas Malfoy was kept private, his wake, however, was a grandiose affair. Every man that the late Malfoy patriarch was acquainted with was invited, from close familiars to people he had merely exchanged courteous nods with at social functions. A lot of people were in attendance, but this was, by no means, an event where commoners were partaking in. No. Everyone gathered on the Malfoy grounds today were either purebloods or half-bloods from the most elite social circles. Many, however, were not interested in paying their respects to Malfoy Senior. They just wanted to be in attendance to show that they were connected to the prestigious Malfoys. No matter, these people increased the headcount when the news would be published on the front page of the _Daily Prophet_ the next day.

After the solemn ceremony, the guests were gathered at the courtyard and gardens for refreshments and mingling. Lucius stood at the steps leading down to the courtyard and scanned the audience for the two people that he was… most interested in having a word with.

"Nott and Greengrass…" He murmured, as his grey orbs focused in on the two men.

The secret that his father revealed to him was not a small one. Within the pureblood society, it was common knowledge that centuries of inbreeding have led them susceptible to having more stillbirths and squibs, but this was not information that you would readily advertise outside the family. It would seem that Nott and Greengrass had unconditional trust in his father.

Within the past few decades, medi-charms have been advanced enough to allow the midwife to scan the new born to check if the child was a squib. Thank the Great Salazar that the Malfoy family only ever had stillbirths. Having a stillbirth was much preferable over having a squib to sully the prestigious line. In fact, more often than not, pureblood families would choose to end the new life right on the spot if the child tested "squib positive". The child was royal by birth, but will inevitably be treated as a third-class citizen in the wizarding society. It was much easier to end its misery right from the start.

Then there were families that choose to tread the more difficult path, to let the child live, but to deposit them into the muggle world, in hopes that they would lead a better life (even if it meant living around those barbaric muggles). This route takes a lot of planning as the family would still try to pair the child with another child of an appropriate family background. It looks like Nott Senior and Greengrass Senior managed to do just that.

Lucius strolled forward to pull Oswald Nott and Elmar Greengrass aside.

"Let's have a private conversation in the drawing room, shall we? I have a 1926 Macallan that I'm sure you will enjoy." he said nodding towards the manor.

When the men were seated in the drawing room, Lucius ordered his house elf, Dobby, to quickly prepare the whiskeys. In a matter of seconds, Dobby offered the drinks to the men with a low bow, with the tray balanced precariously on his head. The three men took the drinks without a second look nor a grunt of thanks at the house elf.

"Off with you now!" Lucius snapped when Dobby lingered in the room. Dobby gasped and quickly left with a pop, probably to bang his head against the banister in a secluded part of the manor for offending his master.

Lucius leered at his surroundings before drawing out his wand. With a quick flick of his wrist, the drawing room doors were shut, curtains were drawn, and the room was charmed against prying ears.

The two senior patriarchs looked at the young Malfoy with a look of apprehension.

"It's quite alright," Lucius drawled. "Just wanted to make sure that our conversation will be completely… _private_. "

He swiveled the golden liqueur in his glass and took a sip. This seemed to make the two older men more relaxed as they too took a sip of their fine whiskey.

"You both were dear friends of my father's," he continued. "Before his passing, he… let me in on your secret. He wanted me to continue his duty outlined in the vow, Oswald." He paused for effect and looked into Nott Senior's eyes. "And I will honor it."

Nott Senior let out a long sigh, now that the proverbial cat was out of the bag. Lucius' eyebrow arched as Oswald looked more and more ashamed with each passing second. Oswald took a big swallow of whiskey to calm his nerves. "I couldn't do it." he finally said. "It's one thing if the child came to the world dead, but to kill my own flesh and blood with my own hands…"

Greengrass Senior draped a reassuring hand on the shoulder of his longtime friend. "You weren't the only one my friend."

Lucius, of course, could relate and understood those sentiments as a new father himself. If his dear Draco was a squib, he likely would have made the same decision as the two men sitting before him.

Lucius spoke quietly, breaking the intimate moment between fathers. "I hear that you have a grandchild now."

"Yes," Oswald said with a small smile whilst wiping a tear. "She is the most beautiful baby girl…We name her ourselves. Our dear _Hermione_." he nodded towards Elmar and Elmar continued with a chuckle, "We planted the idea into Helen's head. Silly girl thinks that she's so clever coming up with a name that no muggle can pronounce correctly."

Oswald leaned in closer and spoke with a serious tone, "But Lucius, Hermione has magic in her blood, there's no doubt about it. We casted the charm ourselves while she was asleep and the result was negative. She'll return to the magical world one day and she will claim what is rightfully hers."

Lucius was shocked. It was very rare for squib parents to bring the dormant magic back into the bloodline. Perhaps it helped that Hermione was the product of two very old and immaculate bloodlines.

"Her magic," Oswald continued, "will be nothing like what we've seen before. A generation of dormant magic will undoubtedly amplify hers once she harnesses her true potential."

"Please protect her on our behalf," Oswald said, echoing the same words of Lucius's father.

"Who knows how much longer we have before we keel over." Elmar joked.

"You have my word, as I too have promised my late father. But with all due respect, what about your sons?"

The two elders rolled their eyes and scoffed, "Don't even bring up those two rascals. Their minds are sullied and clouded by the words of that half-blood snake. We're both so glad that he is gone. Our idiotic sons both don't know a thing. We've already carve out a large portion of our fortune to leave for little Hermione. One day, she will return to the wizarding world and be the pureblood princess that she is entitled to at birth."

Lucius tapped his index finger against the rim of his drink thoughtfully. "That she will…" he mused. _That she will._

* * *

 ** _A/N: There you have it! The second installment. Thank you for the wonderful reception and feedback for Chapter 1 (That means you!: Three Guests, ilovepotato, Monnbeam, LanaLee1, & followers). Please keep them coming as your feedback makes my day :) . I hope it's clear that in this fic, not all purebloods agree with Voldemort, though some things will never change- They are still egotistical pureblood supremacists. _**


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three: Heartbreak**

The normally well composed Lucius Malfoy was pacing back and forth anxiously outside the closed double doors leading to the master chambers, which was currently being used as the delivery room. The room was silenced, much to Lucius' relief. He was bloody nervous already, so hearing the progression of the labor would surely drive him to the brink of insanity.

 _Thump, thump, thump. Turn. Thump, thump, thump. Turn._

There were many things riding on the birth of this child, not only for him, but for the rest of Wizarding Britain as well. Of course, the gravity of the two was incomparable.

Lucius was well aware that there were underground betting pools in Knockturn Alley that were riding on the outcome of his child. For the most part, he rarely cared what these simpletons were doing, as long as things did not get personal.

The other night, Lucius happened to overhear a conversation between a bar owner and his patrons.

"Placing all my money on the stillborn…'ya hear? Lowest return by far but your safest bet, with that track record of theirs! I made several hundred galleons off the last dead baby of theirs!" the bar owner had gloated and cackled to his patrons in the busy bar.

Lucius, who was drinking with Zabini that night was hidden in the shadows. Zabini had whipped out his wand, wanting to hex the man for his vulgar words, but Lucius had stopped him with a raise of his hand. Zabini knew that his friend was livid, but judging by the glint in Lucius' eyes, Zabini knew that he had it under control. The very next day, there was an article in _The Daily Prophet_ about the establishment burning down to the ground overnight, the owner, who lived in the attic, was burnt to a crisp along with it.

Such trifling matters were not even worthy of plaguing his mind. It was the words of his late father that kept him up late at night.

 _He wants to use our young Draco as his heir. He will destroy him from the inside and use him as his vessel._

Initially, Lucius thought that having a second heir would solve his dilemma, but he quickly realized, and with a tremendous amount of guilt, how foolish that was. Was it his intentions to have a replacement heir? For the newborn to take Draco's place if the Dark Lord decided to use Draco? Or was the child the designated bait so that Draco will live unscathed?

They were both his kin, dammit! He berated himself for such thoughts and it was then when he broke down and revealed the truth to Narcissa. Since that day, Narcissa took it upon herself to produce a second heir for the Malfoy family. Not with the intention of the child being a replacement nor bait, but for the reason that someone needed to carry on the family name. Losing any child would be painful, but the line must live on. It was their duty.

 _Thump, thump, thump. Turn. Thump, thump, thump. Turn._

The sheer wait was eating him from the inside ever since the first signs of labor started that morning over two hours ago. This would be the Malfoy couple's fifth try for a second child since Draco's birth five years prior. But after one miscarriage and three still births, it was clear to Lucius that the Malfoys were cursed in some way, but no matter how he tried to downplay the situation, each time was nevertheless an aggravating and heart wrenching experience, especially when the baby turned out to be a stillborn. Even the thought of a squib child doesn't sound as repulsive as it had before.

"It's okay, dear. We can try again." Lucius would tell his wife each time. Now, in hindsight, Lucius realized how insensitive those words were. "Try again" insinuated another gamble at a child. What kind of man would put his wife in such a position? To risk another heartbreak?

He folded his arm across his chest but continued his brisk gait across the length of the corridor.

He knew that it was hardest on Narcissa. For a mother to carry a child to full term, only to find out that the child will never take its first breath… it was a cruel punishment for a mother that would be willing to sacrifice anything, even her own life, for the baby. In fact, more than once, Narcissa expressed that she would be willing to give her life if it meant for the child to live to see the world. Lucius would frown each time, and explained as gently as he could that he couldn't bear to lose her. It was in these moments of vulnerability that he worried that his wife might do something stupid.

Lucius stopped his pacing and snapped out of his reverie when one side of the double doors creeped open and the mid-wife stepped into view. She looked grim and shook her head sadly.

His heart sank. He had many questions…but for whom, that he wasn't sure of. _Why me? Why us?_

The man desperately wanted to cry out, to vent out his pain and frustration in some way, but no, he can't break now. If he broke down, who would support his heartbroken wife behind those doors? The woman was surely suffering not only emotional, but physical pain as well.

"Did you want to know the gender?" the mid-wife asked cautiously. She knew that she had to tread these waters carefully as Lucius could very well explode in rage that could rival that of an angry hippogriff. She would much prefer to be as far away as possible.

Lucius looked at her with steely cold, but sullen eyes. "How is my wife?" he asked, ignoring her question.

"Physically tired, and emotionally broken, sir. You best be by her side. She requested Draco as well. I will fetch the young master." The mid-wife turned to make towards Draco's play room before Lucius stopped her.

"The gender, if you will." he whispered.

"A girl."

Lucius took a deep breath and closed his eyes. He collected his emotions and mustered all his will to hold back the tears that were threatening to spill. Was it possible to love someone so damn much even though you never met them before?

 _But you have,_ he thought to himself. The baby was with them for nine and a half months. Every rub of Narcissa's then pregnant belly, feeling a little kick in response, was a precious interaction with his unborn daughter.

"Have the house elves burry her with her brothers and sister. Their grandfather will look after them." he said finally with a sigh.

The mid-wife nodded and scurried off to find Draco. Lucius ran one hand through his platinum locks and shook his head before walking into the room.

The room was dim, and while it didn't smell of child birth since the house elves cleaned and freshened the room, there was a solemn air about it. Lucius quietly walked up to his wife and was a little taken aback when he saw her face. Narcissa was very still, lips pressed into a thin line. Her eyes though, were glassy and dull, starring off into the portrait of the Malfoy family on the mantel.

"Darling, I'm so sorry." Lucius started.

There was a long pause before Narcissa slowly turned her face towards her troubled husband. "Why ever apologize? It was not the fault of yours nor mine. We both knew how difficult it would be with our pureblood lines. I just…" Narcissa finally burst into tears, "I just didn't think it would be this painful." Between sniffles, Narcissa quietly added, "Lucius, we can try again…"

Lucius was heartbroken at the sight and leaned forward to cradle his wife in his arms. "No more, Narcissa. No more." he murmured into her hair resolutely. "We won't try anymore. My heart cannot take it these testing trials and I've put you through too much pain."

Narcissa sob and between hiccups, she agreed and whispered, "Let's just count our blessings Lucius… we have Draco. Our dear boy."

Right on cue, the little blonde boy walked in holding a green stuffed dragon plushie. "Mother?" he asked as he ran up to the four poster bed and climb up.

"Are you hurt?" he asked, surveying his mother with concern upon seeing the tears streaming down her face. He was careful not to touch his mother. Narcissa gave the little boy a small, but sad smile. Even at such a young age, Draco was a very intuitive and sweet boy.

"Your belly is gone!" Draco pointed, noticing that the prominent bump, which he was told housed a baby brother or sister, was suddenly gone.

Narcissa couldn't bear to explain it and just pulled Draco into a tight hug. Lucius then moved in closer to pull his little family into a hug of his own.

"Baby sister didn't quite work out, Draco. Don't mention it anymore, it will only upset your mother. We will have each other from now on. I promise with all my power that I will protect the both of you, no matter what it takes. I swear on it."

 _Mark my words. I will not allow the Dark Lord to mess with my family._

* * *

 ** _A/N: This is the last "planned" chapter to set the premise of the story. The plot should start to pick up speed now. Thank you to those who have reviewed (My Dog's Mental, Monnbeam, Shorty653, adavi821, brookeworm, lavythecat, Kennedy Jean and Guests) plus those who have favorited and subscribed to this story. Your support keeps me going! See you soon! P.S., do we have any self-proclaimed Harry Potter Wiki in the audience? I might need to cross check some facts for future chapters. Please PM me if you're a living, walking, Harry Potter encyclopedia. Thanks!_**


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter Four: Emotions**

Lucius and Narcissa were enjoying afternoon tea in the gardens while watching their son fly on his new Cleansweep Seven broom that he had received for his eighth birthday just one week prior.

Draco was ecstatic upon receiving his gift, as any little boy would. It was the newest model and both the speed and precision were unprecedented. It was a stark contrast to the training broom that he rode previously. The broom easily out performed any of the existing models in the market and it put his previous training broom to shame. In comparison, his old broom was a mere child's play thing...he was in the big leagues now.

Since receiving his present, Draco played a little game each afternoon that he personally devised. A dozen house elves were ordered to scramble about the gardens to act as targets. Draco would circle around in the sky, resembling a hawk eyeing its prey, before swooping down at the very last second to violently knock down the house elf to the ground and pulling back up into the sky. _Ten points for Draco_ , he smirked. He took great pleasure in jeering and taunting the house elves from up above, before diving down again. This entertained Draco to no end, and he planned on inviting Blaise Zabini and Theo Nott next week to join him.

"I'm not sure you were in your right mind when you purchased that broom for him, darling." Narcissa commented and picked up her elegant china teacup delicately for a sip of tea. Her eyes were focused on the blond haired boy zipping around in the sky. She cringed when Draco did a particularly dangerous maneuver between the trees. "I thought we agreed that he was too young to be on a racing broom. What's wrong with the training broom?"

Lucius shrugged. "Nothing is wrong with the broom but likewise, nothing is right about it. Draco has clearly outgrown that broom and his skill will not improve with that thing. He needs to improve his technique before he plays for the Slytherin team. Besides-" he paused to capture Narcissa's full attention. "-good parents ought to decide what's right for their child when the child is clearly too young to make the correct decisions for themselves."

"Why do I get the feeling you're alluding to something that is not Quidditch related?"

Lucius pulled in closer to the table and spoke in a hushed tone. "There are whispers in the dark corners of Knockturn Alley that the Dark Lord is out in hiding. I haven't a clue where he is, but in any case, we need to be ready. The boy needs to be trained to be vigilant for any plan of ours to work."

"My opinion is that it is still a little too soon, Lucius."

"It's never too soon to start to prepare." he huffed. "Failures often occur with the lack of preparation, and we, my dear, don't have second chances. Wouldn't you agree?"

"Point taken. But Draco can't even have a wand yet. How is he going to train?"

"There are methods in which magic need not be involved. Haven't you noticed how Draco tends to wears his emotions on his sleeves? For Merlin's sake he's easier to read than a child's picture book!" He tutted. "Too young and naïve. With a helping hand, he'll learn to conceal his emotions in no time. My father started to train me just before my enrollment at Hogwarts, but with the impending threat, there's no time to wait. I've owled Severus to help. As I'm sure you know, Severus is quite skilled in Occlumency?"

Narcissa nodded.

"I can't imagine him having a problem with teaching his godson a few things or two... But first-" he paused to eye his son, "-let me snap some sense into Draco. It won't do to have a Malfoy with the backbone of a jellyfish."

With that, Lucius picked up the napkin that was perched on his lap and loosely tossed it on the table. He pushed his chair back and a few long strides down the stone steps brought him to the area where Draco was flying. With a firm tone, Lucius called for his son and signaled for him to come down. Narcissa was just a few paces behind and looked on with interest.

Draco landed a few yards away from his father and gracefully hopped off his broom. He was smiling ear to ear as he reached his father.

"Father, Mother." he greeted and smiled at Narcissa's direction. "I was pretty good up there, wasn't I?"

Lucius wordlessly held out his hand, palm side up, signaling for the broom and Draco placed it in his hand without hesitation.

With the broom in his hand, Lucius took a quick second to admire the craftsmanship of the broom. It had a highly polished handle made of birchwood and a wild head of bristles. Nicely constructed overall, he supposed.

Lucius made sure to watch his son's face as he did what he did next -

Lucius held the broom horizontally, and at a little bit higher than knee level, then without a second word, he raised his right foot and stomped down while pulling his fists up in the opposite direction. With the placement of his foot acting as a fulcrum and the amount of pressure he applied with his foot, the broom easily snapped in half. Narcissa was shocked, to say the least, but didn't comment on her husband's actions. What was a fully new and functional racing broom moments ago was now two useless pieces of wood.

Of course, Draco's reaction was more dramatic and theatrical. He went from being pompously elated ( _I'm a natural at flying, did you see me up there?_ ), to horror (did _Father just snapped my broom in half?_ ), to confusion (w _hy's my present snapped in half?_ ), to melancholy _(My broom really is broken isn't it?),_ to anger _(why the BLOODY HELL did Father break my broom!?),_ all in the span of a few seconds.

"FATHER!" he yelled with angry tears beginning to form in his eyes. "What was that for? THAT'S MY BROOM!" His fists were tightly clenched by his side in hot rage and Lucius raised an eyebrow, certainly amused that his son would have the audacity to raise his voice at him.

He turned towards Narcissa and mouthed the words "See what I mean?"

Narcissa rolled her eyes and conceded to Lucius earlier point in their discussion. She sent him a pointed look that seemed to say, _fine, my son is a little dramatic, but which respectable pureblood isn't?_

Lucius flashed her a smirk.

He turned his attention back towards his son with a stoic face. "Might I remind you that it was _I_ who purchased that broom of yours?" Lucius drawled.

Draco looked down at his leather boots and was silent besides for a few quiet sniffles.

Lucius sighed, tossed the two pieces of the now useless racing broom aside, and knelt down on one knee to be eye-level with his son. He reached forward to hold Draco's closed fists in his larger hands.

"And I can purchase ten more of those exact brooms for you in a heartbeat." he continued. Draco looked up, his grey eyes were still stormy with confused emotions.

"Draco, I want you to remember this, and let this be a lesson for you. Outside of the protection of this home, there will be many, many people that will try to hurt you... sometimes physically, sometimes mentally. They will kick you down when you're at your lowest, whether it be to you directly, or to your loved ones. They will berate you, scare you, anger you, make you jealous… but you must never show that on your face. Emotions don't necessarily make you weak, but only the foolish allow emotions to show unconcealed on their face, where enemies can use it as a bargaining chip against you. Separating your emotions and learning when to reveal them will make you stronger and a true Malfoy."

Draco swallowed and quickly wiped his tears, eyes showing clear determination. His features calmed and he gave a firm nodd in response, eager to prove that he was worthy of the Malfoy name.

Lucius reciprocated the nod and patted Draco's shoulder twice before standing up. That was as close to an acknowledgement that he was proud of Draco as he could get.

"Go back into the manor and get yourself washed up before supper. Your Godfather will be joining us tonight. He will introduce to you the basics of Occlumency." he said with a light push against Draco's back.

"Yes, Father." The boy replied before running back towards the manor, while wondering to himself what Occlumency was. He liked Uncle Severus though, so he was excited to learn from him, whatever it was. Uncle Severus also had really great stories to share about Hogwarts.

"Did Abraxas use the same method on you?" Narcissa quipped, with a playful smile on her face.

"Yes, actually." Lucius admitted and with a nostalgic tone he continued, "but it was with my eagle owl, not a broom."

Narcissa blanched slightly and watched as Draco's back disappeared off into the manor. "You went easy on him then."

Lucius chuckled and held and outstretched hand towards Narcissa, who accepted it, and Lucius gave her hand a few gentle pats in response. The couple then went hand in hand back into the manor to get ready for supper, and for the arrival of their guest.

* * *

 ** _A/N: Poor house elves! Hermione would very much disagree with their treatment. Anyway, do you believe in tough love? I always envisioned Lucius as the "tough love" kind of parent, thus my depiction of him in this chapter. Big thanks to Lavythecat, EssTheWriter, Nelly983, aeireis, Monnbeam, as well as several Guests for your kind reviews and for those who favorited and subscribed. Please continue to let me know what you think! I do love reading your ideas as to where you think this fic is going. Snape, and possibly Hermione, will join our story next! Have a wonderful and safe Halloween my friends._**

 ** _Just a clarification based on the comments I've read, Lucius isn't with the "light side" per se, he's more interested in the survival of the Malfoy bloodline so his goal is to keep Draco alive at all costs. This fic is planned to run parallel to the books/movies up to a certain point (with some twists of course) before diverging. It should be interesting for you to see how things play out!_**


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter Five: Murderer**

It was early evening and the Malfoys were together in the drawing room, having a candid conversation about nothing of importance. They were merely killing time, since the Potion Master was due to arrive at any moment, though by all technical counts, the man was already late. Their guest was already twenty minutes late, and this little detail was a bit worrisome for the Malfoy patriarch, as it was uncharacteristic for the man who was known to strictly abide by schedules.

Lucius frowned as he pulled out the timepiece from the pocket of his vest to check the time, yet again.

"Lucius, he's only a several minutes late." Narcissa commented as she smoothed the material of her skirt, even though there wasn't a wrinkle in sight.

"In the fifteen years I've known him, the man has never been late without reason… and not once was it good news. Can you blame me if I'm on edge?"

"Well, I'm sure he will have a good explanation- " Narcissa started, but was cut off by an ethereal doe appearing through the walls of the drawing room.

Never having seen a Patronus before, Draco jumped off the armchair and ran about the room, chasing the galloping doe with awe.

"It's Severus's Patronus." Lucius told Narcissa, his voice sounding a little tense, and he immediately stood up and side stepped to an open area of the room.

The doe ran a full circle about the room before coming to a graceful halt in front of Lucius. The doe flicked its head and blinked twice before opening its mouth to only to speak in Snape's voice. This freaked Draco out, and he ran behind his mother. Narcissa placed an arm around Draco and held him close to her protectively.

"I won't be able to make it to dinner, Lucius." the voice said. "I'm at Nott's summer villa, accompanying Dumbledore and some Aurors at the scene. Oswald Nott and Elmar Greengrass appear to have been murdered in cold blood some time today… I'll spare you the gruesome details until later tonight. I'll be in touch. Lucius, listen to me, close your Floo and alter your wards immediately to only give access to those you trust. Someone out there is at large and against _our kind_. Remember where our loyalties lie, Lucius, and be wary of your words...there are spies among us."

The doe dissipated but the words seemed to reverberate in the room, though it could very well just be in Lucius's head from the adrenaline rush.

"Bloody hell," Lucius cursed, to which Narcissa fired a stern look at his direction.

"Language, Lucius. Draco is still here." She then stooped down to address to the boy, "Draco, go back to your room okay? I'll send Dobby up shortly with your supper."

"What about Uncle Severus? He's not coming anymore?"

"We'll invite him to the manor another day, Draco. Your Uncle Severus has something to take care of tonight." Lucius explained as patiently as he could.

The boy nodded and sent a worried look to his parents as he reached the entrance to the drawing room.

"Run along, Draco. Everything will be alright." Narcissa urged with a meek smile. Draco disappeared from the door and Narcissa let out a sigh.

"Do you reckon it was the Order's doing?" Narcissa asked as she watched Lucius pulled out his wand and muttered some spells to alter the wards and the access to the Floo.

Lucius finished the spells, but didn't answer Narcissa. He made a few strides over to reach the mini bar area and he felt her eyes following him. He needed a moment to gather his thoughts.

Nott and Greengrass were both very well respected aristocrats in their social circle and to his knowledge, they didn't have any enemies. Who would murder Nott and Greengrass Senior without so much as a motive? Sure, they both were Death Eaters and participated in the war, but like himself, their names were cleared with the Ministry as one of many who were acting under the influence of the Imperius Curse. That would very well mean that they were all in danger.

Lucius fixed a scotch and offered to Narcissa. When she declined, he shrugged and downed the drink himself before pouring another to nurse as he plopped back onto the armchair.

He swished the liqueur around in the crystal glass before meeting Narcissa's eyes.

"Not likely," he finally said. If it was the Order, I don't believe Dumbledore would be part of the investigation team. The Aurors were clearly stumped." After a pause, he continued, "Under that logic, it doesn't seem to be an order from the Ministry either, seeing that the Aurors enlisted Dumbledore's help…a rogue individual perhaps?"

He tapped his finger against his chin in deep thought, the cogs churning in his head. That someone must've had a personal score to settle with the two men.

Who could it be?

* * *

 ** _A/N: Thank you PrincessMS, lunaz, arabellagrace, aeireis, for your review and much love to those that subscribed. I wasn't planning on updating before Halloween, so again, happy Halloween!_**


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter Six: Protection**

Severus Snape apparated to the Malfoy residence close to midnight. His robes billowed about him as he made long strides towards the main entrance. He knew that Malfoy was certainly waiting for the explanation that he was promised earlier that night.

Snape entered the foyer hastily, and sure enough, the Malfoy patriarch was there waiting, with his arms folded across his chest and his body leaning against one of the many gaudy Corinthian columns that supported the grand manor.

The man observed his guest with a calculated eye, and noticed that his appearance seemed more haggard than usual. The case must be a sticky one. The potion master's greasy black hair was considerably more matt against his head and face, further elongating his facial features, and his flowing cloak was stained with potions of sorts and what looked to be dried and crusty blood. The blonde man frowned at the utterly unhygienic figure crossing the threshold of his residence and made a mental note to have the house elves thoroughly _scourgify_ the place after Snape takes his leave.

"Dobby!" Lucius ordered as he straightened from his position and languidly made his way over to Snape.

Dobby appeared with a pop at Lucius's feet and bowed down low, to the point where the elf could see his own reflection off his masters polished leather shoes.

"At your service, Master. Dobby lives to serve the great and noble Malfoys." Dobby replied with a tone of respect.

"Take my guest's cloak and have it cleaned." He clicked his tongue and added, "It's positively filthy."

"That slain blood is as pure as yours," Snape commented coldly and shrugged off his cloak. He had caught the lingering look from Malfoy when his eyes roved over the bloodstains on his outerwear.

Dobby nodded, received the soiled cloak from Snape and chirped, "Right away, Sir" before leaving with another pop.

Together, the two men went over to the drawing room and Snape immediately requested for a drink. "The strongest that you have," he added before dropping himself not so gracefully in one of the plush armchairs. He released a frustrated and tired sigh and rubbed his temples.

Malfoy fixed the drink straight and handed it to the younger Slytherin who gave him a nod of thanks. He waited for Snape to sit comfortably and to take a sip before asking, "How did the investigation play out? Did you lot find out who the culprit was?"

He was met with another long sigh. "No, not at all, but we do have some clues… we know, for instance, that the culprit more than dabbled with the Dark Arts. The way that the two were killed was quite gruesome, Lucius."

"Were there no witnesses? What about the house elves?"

Snape shook his head, "Both Nott and Greengrass had their personal house elf with them at the residence, but the house elves didn't see the murder taking place. It was only when they sense their bond with their master severed that they immediately apparated to the sitting room where they last left their masters, and they found them dead at the scene. They did testify that upon entering the room, there was a figure, a 'Dark Lady' they called it, escaping the room. There was nothing that the elves could do to help, both Nott and Greengrass were gone."

"A 'Dark Lady'? That's not much to go off by," Lucius sat up with his elbows on his knees and tapped his intertwined hands against his mouth, in deep thought.

"The house elves then went back to their respective family homes to notify the heir of their House, who technically was their 'new master' now. Both Nott and Greengrass came to the scene and also notified the Aurors. Dumbledore and I were requested there shortly thereafter. I've never seen Nott and Greengrass so distraught. They were borderline hysterical to find their fathers in that state."

Malfoy nodded, remembering the grief and remorse that he felt during his own father's passing. The feeling of utter incompetence, that you couldn't possibly do anything to help nor alleviate their pain, was hardest to bear.

"Why were you needed at the scene anyway? No offense, just curious," he hastily added when Snape shot him a dirty look.

"I'll have you know that I'm one of the most respected Potion Master in the field-," Snape drawled and Malfoy agreed with him, though a little too quickly, and earned himself another look.

"Nott and Greengrass Sr. were poisoned with a very dangerous Dark potion. In fact, the potion is strictly banned in the modern day and it's very much considered as an old piece of Dark Magic that your average… _rudimentary…_ Potion Master wouldn't know about. There wouldn't be a place to purchase it, even in the darkest corners of Knockturn Alley, so the perpetrator would've had to brew it herself. Thus, the Aurors needed to call upon my expertise."

Snape smirked and there was a glint in his eye, as if he was silently egging Lucius to ask him to elaborate on the effects of the potion, which would incidentally acknowledge his superiority in the art of potion-making.

His curiosity got the best of him, and Lucius relented and asked the question that Snape was waiting for.

"Thought you would never ask," Snape said with a smirk. " _Mors Dolorum_ , is its name, and the potion was reserved as a torture device centuries ago, and for your worst enemies in particular. There's no scent nor taste to the potion so it can be laced into virtually anything consumable and your enemy wouldn't suspect a thing. Once consumed, the potion immobilizes the person within five minutes but it also heightens the person's senses so that they would be completely conscious and sensitive to what happens next. The poison then kicks in, and it is a slow and excruciating one. You'll feel as if there are ants crawling and biting under your skin, and then it travel through your blood vessels and to all the vital organs, all the while, the person is immobilized so there is nothing that they can do but endure. The person is left there to suffer until the poison runs through the whole body… and this can take anywhere between forty-five minutes to an hour. The worst part of it all is that the potion magically keeps the person sane and awake through the torment. You can't even black out even if you wanted to."

"That is one terrible Dark potion," Lucius murmured and his face paled a little at the thought of how his acquaintances suffered.

"Extremely difficult to brew, let alone to find the instructions for it." Snape said. "Oh, and there's more. When the Aurors arrived at the scene, they realized that the bodies of the two men were dissected… their hearts were taken."

This was more than a little unsettling for Malfoy. They had no real leads to go after and the mysterious 'Dark Lady' was still at large.

"So your Patronus earlier, are you implying that, all of us are in danger?"

"I can't say for sure, but just be vigilant, Lucius. We don't know what the culprit's intent was, and as far as we can tell, she's ruthless when it comes to her targets. All the while, there are rumors that the Dark Lord is out there somewhere. It may all be connected and the Aurors are looking for other leads. I'll let you know if there's any new developments."

Lucius involuntarily shuddered at the mention of the return of the Dark Lord. His Draco would be in danger.

"Severus, I need your help. Before my father passed away, he revealed to me a secret that the Dark Lord planned to use Draco as his heir… I can't let him do that. He's my only son and I can't let him take him away from me."

Snape didn't reply and looked as if he was in intense thought. There was a long silence where their eyes locked. "You want me-," he said slowly, as if making sure that he's getting the words out properly, "-to knowingly defy the Dark Lord?"

Lucius considered the words as a rejection and thus took great offense at this. He slammed his hand forcefully on the armchair and jumped up in rage. His eyes turned cold as he glared at Snape.

"You owe me, Severus… and I didn't peg you as one that would leave a debt unpaid." Lucius snarled and pointed an accusatory finger at the Potion Master. "Evans may have died, but I held my end of the deal. It is your turn to protect Draco."

The death of Lilly Potter was still a sore spot for Snape and his frown deepened to disguise his hurt and heartache. The foolish Potters put their trust in the wrong person and look where it led them, he thought bitterly. Sirius Black should consider himself lucky that he was thrown into Azkaban, for the dog of a man would fare much worse in the hands of a talented Potions Master with a vengeance. Snape had a few vials of poison (all legal) in his arsenal that would be just as torturous as the one that poisoned and subsequently killed the late Nott and Greengrass.

The man was right though. Lucius, with his Prefect status, provided protection of sorts for Lily during the three years when they attended Hogwarts together. Lucius's influence even carried on for another year or two and thus protected Lily until she was an established witch who could easily protect herself on her own. Things would've been much, much worse for the muggle-born without Lucius's help.

Snape relented and sighed. He looked up to the direction where he thought his Lily might be, in heaven, and muttered. "I always knew that the bargain would get me killed one day. But Lucius,-" he turned back to look at the man across from him, "-you know that I would watch over Draco. He's my Godson. As you said, I am not one to forget a debt but also know that I am not one to shirk away from my responsibility and duty either."

The room was silent, before Lucius threw his head back in bouts of laughter. Snape's eyes narrowed.

"What do you find so amusing, Lucius? I, for one, was quite serious and I'm starting to get offended."

Lucius collected himself before replying, "I'm sure that even you will find the irony of the situation amusing as well. You see, I'm glad that you're a true man of your word, and a…responsible man to boot." Lucius paused to wait for Snape to agree with him.

"Yes, and?" Snape gestured for him to continue, getting a little impatient to hear the 'kicker'.

"So, I would like for you to keep an eye out for Nott's grandchild as well. Shouldn't be too hard, I'm sure any Nott will be sorted to Slytherin so technically it'd be outlined your job description anyway." Lucius clapped his hand once at the end of his sentence to signal the finality of his speech.

"Quite brilliant of an arrangement, if I do say so myself since I'll be of little help as an outsider when they are attending Hogwarts." He smirked, waiting for the Potion Master to unleash his wrath.

 _Your move, Severus._

"Let me get this straight," Snape enunciated each word with precision. "You want _me_ to not only look after Draco but also young Mr. Nott through their years at Hogwarts, where they are bound to cause a ruckus and be the little pureblood brats that they are, turn a blind eye to their raging hormones during their adolescent years, and then hoping that they will have paid enough attention in the seven years that they've spent in Hogwarts to score a satisfactory mark on their N.E.W.T.s, before waving them farewell as their young adult lives begin."

Lucius wore a smile that would make the Cheshire Cat proud.

"De-fucking-lightful." Snape spat, face lacking the mirth that Malfoy seemed to have with the situation.

"Oh, one tiny correction to your absolutely eloquent vision of what's to come in your future."

"What is it now? Dear Merlin, don't tell me I have to take in another charity case." Snape rolled his eyes.

With a sly smile, Lucius continued. "Theodore Nott was not the Nott that I had in mind."

"What are you talking about, the Nott family only has one heir."

"Not quite… here let me get you another drink, you'll need one." Lucius patted Snape's shoulder a few times before proceeding to tell him about Hermione Nott.

* * *

 _ **A/N: Thank you LilyFlower49, aeireis, and EmilyWoods for your encouragement and constructive criticism. I do appreciate it and hope that it'll make me a better writer. Much love to those who favorited and followed this story, your support certainly puts a smile on my face. Please continue to let me know what you think! Hermione will be receiving her letter to Hogwarts in the next chapter!**_


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter Seven: Hogwarts**

The Grangers were not expecting any guests that Saturday morning so when the doorbell chimed, both Frank and Helen exchanged curious glances across the dining table where the family had just finished enjoying a hearty breakfast of French toast, eggs, and bacon. Frank Granger was reading the morning post while Helen Granger was chatting with Hermione about the latest book that her daughter was reading, one about a sorcerer living inside a moving castle.

Her daughter loved reading, there was no secret about that. Helen was quite thrilled that Hermione loved reading on her own accord as there were quite a few parents from her Parent Teacher Association group where they complained of having a hard time getting their child to read books rather than play the day away. Her Hermione read just about anything, fiction… non-fiction… but above all, she seemed to be very much interested in wizards and magic genre. Helen wasn't concerned at all, it's a good thing for little girls to have a strong imagination, even if there was no such thing as magic, only the sleight of hand.

"It's absolutely fascinating!" Hermione was saying before the doorbell interrupted her conversation. The family looked up towards the front door.

"Who might that be?" Frank asked.

He suggested that perhaps they had a parcel, but Helen replied that they did not make any mail-in-order purchases recently. Helen stood up to go see, but it looks like Hermione was one step quicker.

"I'll get it, Mum!" Hermione cried and slipped out of her chair and raced for the door.

Before Helen could reply, her enthusiastic daughter was already running out of the dining room and towards the door.

Hermione unlocked and swung open the door and was met with a dark robed figure. The visitor was a tall old lady and Hermione unconsciously gulped as she tipped her head back to see the person's face. Hermione's hazel eyes connect with green orbs that, for a fleeting second, reminded her of that of a cat - so very attentive and calculating, though the woman's pupils were normal and did not have the characteristic feline slit.

The woman looked to be way over the hills, perhaps late sixties with all the wrinkles that adorned her face, and she wore a dark green cloak made from a shimmering velvet material, and a pointed hat with the point cocked to one side.

As Hermione was looking up and down and taking in the curiously odd style of dress that the visitor had, the woman spoke.

"Miss… Granger is it? I assume you would rather go by Granger rather than Nott?" she asked. She had a nice voice, but her tone was prim and she exuded an authoritative disposition.

Hermione's head tilted to the side, confused at the strange question. Not knowing her true birth name, Hermione understood the question as 'you would rather go by Granger rather than not?'.

Not wanting to sound like a fool in front of the woman with the strange cloak and hair pulled back into a tight and formal bun under the pointed hat, she swallowed and replied courteously, "Miss Granger is fine, or Hermione if you'd like."

"Alright, Miss Granger." McGonagall replied with a nod. She was more than a little curious at the girl's surname but Dumbledore had specifically asked her to not delve into details if the family would like to be referred to as 'Granger'.

It would be an understatement to say that McGonagall was surprised at coming across the name 'Hermione Jean Granger (Nott)' in the Book of Admittance. A thought crossed her mind that it was surely a mistake, but that was quickly gone. The Quill of Acceptance, the magical quill that documented the birth of every magical child in the Book of Acceptance, was never wrong. Both the Quill and the Book were powerful magical artefacts that were created by Hogwart's Founding Fathers. Who was she to doubt their magical prowess?

It was definitely curious though, as the House of Nott was a very old and prominent linage in the Wizarding world. Being one of the Sacred Twenty-Eight meant that every aspect of their lives was on display. They were as close to being Wizarding royalty as one would get. Never once was there mention that there was a branch of the Nott family residing in the muggle world. Goodness! That would certainly cause quite a stir in Wizarding Britain and the tabloids would be all over it, seeing that the Nott family was one of the most well-known pureblood supremacists and followers of You-Know-Who.

When McGonagall brought this to the attention of the Headmaster, Dumbledore, with the usual twinkle in his eye, had kindly told McGonagall to respect the privacy of the family, which, put a little more bluntly, was essentially telling her to 'mind her own business'.

"Hello," Helen, who was now at the door standing behind Hermione, greeted McGonagall. "How may I help you?"

"I am the Deputy Headmistress of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry and I have come to personally offer placement to Miss Granger to our School."

Helen's was dumbfounded and her reaction looked as if McGonagall was sprouting horns on her head. She blinked a few times before replying, "I'm sorry, did you say witchcraft?"

She looked cautiously at the woman standing before her and made a move to push Hermione back into the house in a protective manner. This old woman was definitely off her rockers and she had half a mind to shut the door right in her face right then and there.

"It's alright," McGonagall said kindly, "please give me a few minutes of your time for me to explain. I'm sure you've seen signs of Miss Granger being able to do peculiar and unexplainable things… for example, making objects move on their own, or strange things may happen when she angry… those are all signs of her magical abilities."

How did this lady know all of this, Helen thought as her mouth hung open forming a silent 'O'.

It was true that Hermione had done some quirky things before…one night she caught Hermione reading way past her bedtime. The light was peeping through the cracks of her closed door, but when she opened the door, the lights switched off and Hermione was in her bed, sleeping (or at least, pretending to be sleeping). The light switch was clear across the room and there was no other way to turn off the light without making any sort of movement or shuffling sounds that she wouldn't hear from the other side of the door.

Could her daughter really be a witch?

Helen relented with a sigh and invited the woman in.

"Hermione, please lead our guest to the living room while I go get your Father."

Hermione nodded and gestured to McGonagall. "Right this way, please."

When the Grangers were all seated in the living room, McGonagall introduced herself, and then painted the Wizarding World with her descriptive words. She explained the secret world that was hidden from humans, muggles as she called it, in vivid detail and the world in which Hermione needs to be in with her magical powers.

"This is where she will thrive," she urged, when she saw that Frank and Helen still looked more than a bit skeptic. "Hermione will be bound to perform more instances of accidental magic as her magic gets stronger, and that will cause a problem for you both under the International Statute of Secrecy. Attending Hogwarts will help her harness and hone her powers so that she would be able to properly channel it at will."

Hermione was drinking the information in and her thirst for more prompted multiple animated questions.

"So I'm a witch, you say… that's just brilliant! Is that why I can turn off my bedroom light without hitting the light switch? Deputy Headmistress, do witches and wizards have wands? Oh, and is the Hogwarts castle a _moving_ castle?"

McGonagall smiled at the chattering girl. So inquisitive. She liked the girl already.

Frank held his hand up to interrupt Hermione's questions. "Deputy Headmistress… I still find it very hard to believe that magic exists… can you perhaps show us some proof?"

"A fair request. Very well." McGonagall replied and stood up.

This was a very common questions among the muggle parents with a magical child. With a turn she transformed into a tabby cat, her Animagus form. The green eyed cat peered at them and her tail flicked to and fro. The cat jumped onto the arm of the loveseat couch and it ran across the top of the couch, showing the feline agility and speed that she possessed.

The Granger's eyes collectively bulged out, and Frank exclaimed, "Good Lord!"

McGonagall leaped back to the ground and changed back to her human form. She offered the Grangers a crooked smile that was a borderline smirk. Muggle parents almost always made similar outbursts when she showed them her Animagus form and it never ceased to amuse her.

She turned to face Hermione and she was taken aback by the determination and resolve in the girls eyes.

Hermione turned to face her parents. "Mum, Dad, I want to study magic." she said resolutely.

The Grangers shared a look that seemed to silently convey their answer to each other. Though Frank and Helen had wavering thoughts of letting their only daughter go to a foreign world, especially one that they knew nothing about, they still agreed.

Who were they to not allow their daughter to chase after her dreams?

"Miss Granger, I will come again next week to take you and your parents to Diagon Alley to help with the purchase of your wand and school materials. In the meantime, here is your Hogwarts letter, and a gift from me to you."

McGonagall reached into her bag and pulled out an envelope and handed it to Hermione. Next, she pulled out a rectangular package wrapped with red, green, yellow, and blue paper.

The girl accepted the package with the most happy and grateful smile that McGonagall had seen in a long time. The child warmed her heart.

Hermione ripped through the wrapping paper which revealed a book, titled: _Hogwarts: A History_.

* * *

 _ **A/N: Hello readers! Clarifying comment from the last chapter. Lucius is not bound by the Unbreakable Vow/secrecy clause. His father was. Since Abraxas already took the hit from the Vow (in the form of death), Lucius can technically tell anybody he wants, but he is aware that there are spies in their ranks so he's extra cautious. I loved your guesses as to who the murderer was. Please hang on tight to wait for the reveal!**_

 _ **In this chapter, Hermione was reading one of my favorite novels: Howl's Moving Castle (Pretty obvious from the description). It's a must read! Thank you for those that reviewed and support this Fic (Monnbeam, mega700201, EmilyWoods, adavi821, lilyflower49, LUNAZ, crankypants16, R-E-B-E-C, dramione101**_ _ **). I love your comments, please keep them coming!**_


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter Eight: Mudblood**

Smoke billowed from the Hogwarts Express as the train moved across green pastures and skimmed past rugged hills towards its final destination: Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

Draco was so glad that they were finally on the train and away from all the parents that were being total saps back on Platform 9¾. Many of the parents were acting as if they would never see their child again. Some were actually crying for Salazar's sake… they were being sent off to school, not a bloody war zone.

He was quite relieved that he had what he characterized as a 'normal' goodbye from his own parents. They hugged and said their goodbyes. That was it and he preferred it that way.

Draco had a cabin all to himself along with his childhood acquaintances Blaise Zabini, Pansy Parkinson, Vincent Crabbe, and Gregory Goyle. The group didn't originally have the cabin, but they were able to… _persuade_ (more like intimidate)… the two girls that were originally occupying the cabin to take their leave.

Now that he was officially away from his father and mother, Draco figured that he could do what he wouldn't dare do under their watchful eyes.

Like slouching in his seat.

"Draco, that looks uncomfortable," Pansy commented with a saccharine laced voice, "You can lay your head on my lap if you'd like. I don't mind."

Draco cringed but it would seem that Pansy took no notice.

Of course she didn't mind, but _he_ minded. And very much so. Doing something as mildly intimate as that would instantly label them as a couple by Pureblood standards, and there was no way that he was going to get tied down by Pansy, on the contrary to what her parents may think.

There were many times at social gatherings where the Parkinsons had the nerve to even suggest to his parents that Pansy and himself were, quote, 'perfect for each other'. Merlin's beard! If Mrs. Parkinson croons in his ear one more time about how he and Pansy were 'destined to be together', Draco would shove her away and give her a piece of his mind, no matter how extremely rude that would be. The woman was crossing his boundaries and clearly was not receptive to the not-so-subtle hints that he would give her, telling her to back off.

Luckily, it would seem that his parents were secretly not very fond of the Parkinsons and of their daughter, because when Draco brought up the issue to his father, his father merely scoffed and said, "I would not put you through something so revolting as letting you take the Parkinson girl's hand in marriage. Even the idea of it is repulsive." And that was the end of that conversation.

Just when Draco was about to grunt a firm 'not interested', there were two polite knocks and the cabin door slid open to reveal a girl with wide hazelnut eyes and a heart-shaped face that seemed smaller than it really was since it was being swallowed by a wild mane of bushy brown hair. The girl already had her school uniform on. She must be eager to get to Hogwarts, Draco thought.

"Hello, sorry to interrupt," the girl said, "but have you seen a toad by any chance? Neville Longbottom has lost one."

Longbottom… that was a name that Draco recognized. The 'blood-traitors' as his father would call them.

Last he remembered, the Longbottoms were in St Mungo's, after being thrown into insanity by his Aunt Bellatrix and the his two Lestrange Uncles. Though his opinion was that they were both beyond repair and its quite a waste of space keeping them in St Mungo's. They certainly did not deserve to be treated in any way for going against their Pureblood teachings. They were just as bad as the Weasleys.

"Who are you, anyway? Longbottom's girlfriend?" Draco sneered, not even bothering to answer her original question nor to sit up from his slouching position.

The girl placed her hands on her hips, her smile replaced by a frown from the boy's sour attitude.

"No, I am not his girlfriend. I just met Neville and I'm just trying to be helpful since he seemed so distraught. Now have you seen a toad or not?"

"Ew…honestly, only the mentally imbalanced would keep a pest as a familiar. I don't think we would let something as repulsive as a slimy toad into our cabin. In fact, I don't think I've ever even seen a live one in my life." Pansy said coldly and her face twisted with disgust, making her face look even more pudgy.

Draco bit his cheek to refrain from commenting that Pansy was no less foul than the slimy toad, but going with that logic, would he be 'mentally imbalanced' by her standards if he kept her around? That didn't sit well in his head.

He hate to admit it, but as much as he disliked Pansy, she was a proper Pureblood girl and it would only ruin his schoolyear if he were to anger Pansy since they were both bound to be sorted into Slytherin and would share the same Commons.

The girl's eyes seem to flash with anger with Pansy's comment, but she still put on a fake smile and gritted out a reply.

"Well, thanks… I guess. Just let Neville know if you do come across it. I'm sure you'll have no trouble recognizing it, even if you haven't seen one before, because even though his toad is grey and freckled, its face is adorned with a look very similar to the expression that you're wearing right now. What an uncanny resemblance, really."

She retreated out of the cabin and slid the door closed behind her as Pansy let out a shrill screech while Draco and Blaise snickered to themselves.

"I can't believe her, " Pansy said quite crossly, "The nerve! Disturbing us for a toad. What's the use of describing it to me when I've never seen one!"

Draco rolled his eyes and gave Blaise a look. Someone help the girl, she can't even recognize a diss when she hears one.

"You know, Pans," Blaise said with a smile. "They're probably all over the Hogwarts grounds in the fall when it gets all wet and marshy."

"Really? That's gross! Remind me not to go outside, Draco." Pansy said earnestly and held onto one of Draco's hands.

Draco faked a coughed and crossed his arms so that his hands would be out of reach from Pansy.

Pansy continued to say something to him, but Draco tuned her out.

That girl had a sharp tongue and a strong wit… it would be interesting if she was sorted to Slytherin, though in the back of his mind, he was more curious as to what her name was.

* * *

About two and a half hours later, the first years were entering into the Great Hall, being led by Professor McGonagall. They all looked like little lost ducklings, blindly following the back of the person in front of them, in hopes that the person was leading them to whereever they were supposed to go.

McGonagall spun around and addressed the group when she reached the stool where the Sort Hat perched.

"First years, gather to the front. That's right, hurry now. When I call your name, step forward and take a seat at this stool. I will put the Sorting Hat on top of your head and the Sorting Hat will place you in one of the four houses."

Severus Snape looked onwards with a stoic expression and searched amongst the bobbing heads for the faces of the three people that he mildly cared about. The rest of the lot was of no interest to him.

It was easy to find Draco Malfoy. He could pick out his white-blond head a Quidditch field away. Draco was looking straight at him and Snape gave him a nod and Draco smirked.

The first years were now all gathered at the front of the Great Hall and Professor McGonagall started calling out the names in alphabetical order by last name.

Snape's eyes continued to search through the faces when his gaze landed on a boy with jet-black hair towards the front of the group. There was no mistaking it. He was the splitting image of James Potter, even down to those ridiculous circular lenses balanced on the bridge of the boy's nose. His frown deepened at the thought of his childhood nemesis, the hooligan that was undeserving of Lily Evans.

The Potter boy looked up and Snape caught a glimpse of the boy's eyes and he felt as if he had his breath knocked out of him.

 _Lily_.

Snape steeled himself from the feelings that all of a sudden surged up from the core of his soul.

He recalled that the boy had Lily's eyes, but he hadn't prepared himself to see the exact look that Lily wore, the look of awe and excitement, from her own sorting. Though the day was decades ago, Snape still remembered it as clear as if it were only yesterday.

"Hermione Granger," Professor McGonagall called and Snape snapped out of his musing.

The girl stepped forward and looked to be nervously talking to herself as she made it to the stool.

So she was Nott's first Heir. He propped one elbow precariously on the edge of the dining table and rested his chin on top of the knuckles of his hand.

McGonagall laid the Sorting Hat on top of Hermione's head.

Several long seconds passed and still no verdict… until finally, the Sorting Hat announced…

"Gryffindor!"

Snape elbow slipped and he was startled before catching himself. He looked to his left and Dumbledore seemed to have a brighter smile than before, and McGonagall looked to be beaming at the girl that just now joined the Gryffindor table.

 _Shite._

That was not supposed to happen. Every Nott had been in Slytherin.

That was NOT supposed to happen. The girl must've said something to the Sorting Hat… The Sorting Hat couldn't have known that she was a Nott, but it should be able to sense the Slytherin qualities that were innate in her blood.

 _Shite. Shite. Shite._

He did not sign himself up for these turn of events… this mess. Not that he willing agreed to Lucius request to begin with, but the girl was supposed to be under his charge!

Then Snape realized something else regarding Hermione's identity as a Nott…

 _McGonagall knew._

 _Dumbledore knew._

He was one hundred percent sure of this.

There was no way that Hermione's name wouldn't be written as 'Hermione Nott' in the Book of Admittance. The Quill of Acceptance was designed to write down the legal name of every magical child born in Britain. And since McGonagall was in charge of reviewing the names of eligible children every year, she must have come across it. And naturally, if McGonagall knew, she would have told Dumbledore in a heartbeat.

On the contrary, the Sorting Hat was developed to look into the minds of the wearer. The artefacts were just designed to do different things.

The Sorting Hat has the ability to sense the traits that the student has before making a calculated decision as to where best to sort the child. While the Sorting Hat was gifted with an eternal memory to remember all the students that it has sorted, the Sorting Hat doesn't know the name of the student until McGonagall announces the name.

Simply put, the Sorting hat was not conceived to be able to physically see the student. In fact, the Sorting Hat doesn't have real 'eyes' per se. It "sees" by sensing and then it records it. The traits and desires that it senses from the individual during the brief encounter will become the unique differentiating factor, much like one's fingerprint, for the Sorting Hat.

He'll need to let Lucius know of this new development… it would definitely change his plans and make things a bit more tricky.

"Draco Malfoy."

Snape stilled his mind's tempestuous thoughts at the sound of his Godson's name.

Professor McGonagall had barely placed the Sorting Hat on his head before it bellowed,

"Slytherin!"

Snape let out a breath of relief.

At least something was right in the world.

* * *

The first two weeks of the school year passed by quickly, but several impressions were already firmly established as fact amongst the teachers and students of the school.

First, he was the Slytherin prince that all the first year Slytherins looked up to, and even some second years too. With his Malfoy name and his Godfather's clear favoritism, Draco could get away with a lot of things without losing house points or getting detention. Draco was determined to make some of the older classmates grovel at his feet by the end of the school year upon command.

Secondly, Granger was the teacher's pet. Damn her.

He knew that Granger was witty, but she was exponentially smarter than what she let on during their first encounter. The girl was well like by all of her professors except for Snape and it irked him to no end. His father expects him to score top marks, and it looks like he has a strong competitor for the top position. Last week, Granger was the first to successfully complete the Levitation Charm during Professor Flitwick's Charms class, and just today, she, along with him, were one of the few that successfully transfigured a rock into a small button during Transfiguration.

Who was she anyway? Granger was definitely not a Pureblood name… she's a half-blood, perhaps?

In any case, he had complained about Granger a few times in his writing to his father, hoping that his father would know the reason as to why Granger was so magically gifted. Draco figured that the girl probably had a really good tutor during the summer before the start of school.

It was just after Transfiguration class when Draco decided to go take a nap at an alcove that he found on the second floor. He still had well over an hour before it was time for dinner.

* * *

Draco was startled awake by Bubo Bubo pecking window next to the well concealed alcove where he dozed off. This was a nice spot that Draco had discovered whenever he wanted to be rid of Crabbe and Goyle. Those two were so vapid and stupid that he feared that if he spent too long with them, his intellect may very well be adversely affected by them.

Draco stretched his back to release some of the tension in his stiff shoulder and neck. Taking the nap on the alcove certainly put a nasty kink in his neck.

Bubo Bubo pecked the small window again impatiently.

"All right, all right," Draco muttered and leaned in closer to the window. "I'll meet you at the Owlery, Bubo Bubo. There's no way for me to let you in through here."

The Eagle Owl hooted and soared back up into the sky towards the direction of the Owlery. Draco frowned and his eyes darted around his surroundings. He wouldn't be caught dead addressing his Eagle Owl such an embarrassing name like Bubo Bubo. Though in his defense, he did name the owl when he was merely five years old, but if he could change his decision, he would definitely opt for a less childish name.

Orion. Yes, Orion would be good. Orion, the skilled hunter.

Alas, there was nothing that he could do now. The owl wouldn't go by any other name besides Bubo Bubo.

Draco sighed and jumped off the alcove to make his way over to the Owlery. When he step foot into the Owlery, he was surprised at how big it was and gathered in the view. He hadn't visited the Owlery yet as he had received and sent his letters in the morning at the Great Hall, where the other students could see his majestic Eagle Owl.

He rotated himself a full circle to see the whole Owlery. There were hundreds of owls there, from the school's brown barn owls, to snowy white owls, the unimpressive grey owls, and some different exotic varietals that were most likely owned by Purebloods like himself.

As he entered the Owlery, it was as if Bubo Bubo spotted his white blond head immediately and the bird squawked and took its decent down. Draco raised out his left arm for the owl to stand on.

"How are you doing?" Draco asked the bird and stroked its back to which the owl hooted affectionately. "What do you have for me today?"

The bird raised one of its talons and attached to it was a scroll. Draco was slightly disappointed that it was just a letter, a response from his father no doubt, and that his mother didn't send any more sweets to him.

Draco untied the rolled up parchment and offered his owl a snack. Bubo Bubo took it and flew up to one of the empty cubby holes to rest.

Draco unrolled the letter and the elegant script was definitely that of his father. He read the first sentence and his eyes went as big as saucers.

"Shite." he cursed. He paced in a circle. He dreaded reading the rest of the letter, but he had no choice. The letter was short, but the message was clear. And Draco didn't like it one bit. After reading the letter twice, he fisted the letter into a ball and stormed out of the Owlery and back to the Slytherin commons.

A few of his housemate that were leaving for dinner saw him, but every one them could tell that Draco was in a foul mood and dared not disturb him. Draco took one more look at the ball of parchment in his hand, and tossed it into the fireplace where the paper crackled and quickly burned along with the glowing embers.

He was careless to keep writing about that stupid Hermione Granger - about their encounter on the train, about how he thought she was a Slytherin but was sorted into Gryffindor, and about how she was the first student in their class to perform the Levitation Charm properly- and now Father was angry with him.

Of course, this little blip wouldn't endanger his inheritance in anyway, as he was, in fact, the only heir to the Malfoy throne, but he disliked his Father being mad at him.

When your wealth can buy you any materialistic pleasures in the world, you tend to seek comfort in acceptance, recognition, and approval of others of superiority and status.

Draco wanted nothing more than to make his father proud.

His father's message was still on his mind as he stared into the open flame dancing angrily in the fireplace, incinerating the last of the parchment to fine ashes.

 _Draco,_

 _I must say I'm truly shocked that you would mention this girl… Hermione Granger… in not one, but several of your most recent correspondence with us._

 _I have two words for you, son: Nobleesse Oblige._

 _I am sure that I need not repeat all the things that I have taught you regarding our duty as a Pureblood aristocrat. We have high standards, Draco. Do the noble, Pureblood thing, and remind the chit of what she truly is, a lowly, dirty muggle-born._

 _A Mudblood._

 _Signed,_

 _Your Father_

* * *

 ** _A/N: Thank you Destineyofme, aeireis, LanaLee1, and Monnbeam for your reviews! Much love to the new followers as well!_**

 ** _By the way, the plot will only get more intricate, so if you have any questions, do let me know via a signed review! I reply to all questions, and I read all of comments. Also, you can write to me iF there's anything that you want to see as the story moves along, and I might incorporate it into the fic!_**

 ** _I spent quite a bit of time on this chapter. If you enjoyed it, please send a review! I'd love to hear what you think._**


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter Nine: Twisted**

 _-The night of the Sorting, two hours later-_

"Ah… " Dumbledore sighed and rested his hand on his belly, content with his meal, though his stomach was protesting slightly since he may have over indulged his sweet tooth tonight by having that piece of pumpkin pie _and_ pineapple upside-down cake. But how could he resist? They both struck his fancy sitting perched on the tiered dessert tray, waiting to be eaten.

His eyes twinkled behind his half-moon spectacles as he watched the exiting crowd from where he sat, along with the rest of the faculty, at the head table. The students were filing out of the Great Hall, in roughly four separate lines, with the Prefects of each house leading the way back to their respective dormitories.

The prefects had to shout above all the noise and chatter, calling out to the first years to make sure to stay close, and to keep up with the group.

"You don't want to find yourself following the Slytherins down to the dungeons." A Ravenclaw Prefect was heard saying.

The Professors were still seated at the table finishing up the last of their conversations, mostly regarding class schedules for the upcoming week.

"Another sorting finished and another school year has officially begun." Dumbledore commented with a smile to his faculty. Out of the corner of his eyes, he saw Snape dropping his napkin next to his dinner plate and was about to stand up to excuse himself from the table.

"If I may, have a few more minutes of your time-" Dumbledore said and motioned to Snape to remain in his seat. Snape had risen from his chair already, and reluctantly sat back down looking unamused. He was prepared to be on his way back to his quarters to have a talk with Lucius.

Dumbledore pushed his chair back and stood up. He slowly made it around the long table to reach the other side to directly face his staff. By this time, all the students were out of the Great Hall and the room was eerie silent. All eyes were on Dumbledore as he reached into his robes to pull out his wand, and with a flick, the large double doors to all the entrances to the Great Hall swung shut with a large thud.

"My dear faculty members, we have a wonderful new crop of students this year and I have high hopes and expectation for this class. With our collective efforts, let us lead this group to their fullest potentials."

After a few nods of acknowledgement from the staff, Dumbledore continued. "As you all saw and heard from the Sorting, we have a special student that joined Hogwarts this year, Mister Harry Potter. Harry's return is a stark reminder of that night when Lord Voldemort -" a few sharp intakes of breath were heard "-was 'defeated' a decade ago."

The Headmaster proceeded to slowly paced the length of the table, pausing to make eye contact with each of the Professors.

"While Voldemort disappeared that night, I, for one, knew that he was not truly defeated and was bound to find all means to return. I have heard from whispers in the night that he is out there, in hiding, waiting for the most opportune moment to return… the Ministry may choose not to believe it, but as caretakers for all the students of this School, I asked that each and every one of you to take extra precautions to ensure our students' safety. Even rumors have some basis of truth, no matter how slight it may be."

A figure dressed in purple robes stood up at the table.

"P-professor Dum-b-bledore," Professor Quirrell stammered, "Do you really believe that H-He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named will rise a-again?"

Dumbledore flashed him a kind smile, "Quirinus, no, I don't _believe_ so… I _know_ he will return. It's only a matter of _when_."

Professor Quirrell gave a weak and nervous chuckle in return, as if frightened already by the prospects of the Dark Lord's return, and sat back down.

"That is all for tonight," Professor Dumbledore said with a small nod. "I bid you all goodnight and pleasant dreams."

* * *

It was just after Dumbledore's ominous little impromptu faculty meeting when Snape sent his Patronus to storm into the Malfoy residence.

Lucius's grey eyes followed the galloping doe around the sitting room. For such a graceful animal, Snape seemed to always send the doe barging through his home like a crazy deer being chased by some sort of threat, Lucius thought wryly.

The Patronus finally stopped before him and brought a simple message.

"Alter your Floo Network to let me in. We need to talk… _now_."

The message made Lucius a little uneasy, but he supposed that he will found out soon.

Several things crossed his mind. Like Draco being sorted into Hufflepuff, but he quickly scoffed at that notion. That was just not possible. The boy oozed Slytherin inside and out. Merlin forbid it really did happen, he'll personally infiltrate into Hogwarts to rip that stupid hat to shreds.

Lucius made his way to his study where a hearty fire was dancing in the fireplace. He whipped out his wand and altered the Floo and then sat in his armchair to wait for the Potion Master.

He didn't need to wait long. The fire quickly flashed green and Snape came through the fireplace.

Snape did not look very happy.

"You don't look too thrilled this evening, my friend."

"Understatement of the year, thanks for stating the obvious." Snape spat with venom laced into his words. "Your supposed Slytherin Princess got sorted to Gryffindor. I will most definitely _not_ be looking after a Gryffindor."

Lucius arched one pale eyebrow. "Interesting." he commented, and as an afterthought, he mused, "I was so sure that she would be sorted to Slytherin with her impeccable bloodline. Perhaps being brought up in a less than ideal environment affected the Hat's decision."

"Well, clearly you have miscalculated-" Snape drawled. "-and I will not suffer the consequences of your miscalculations. Since the girl is not under my charge, I will take it that I am relieved of my duties."

"Ah ah ah." Lucius wriggled his index fingers and Snape looked increasingly more annoyed.

"We had a deal, Severus, and you can't take back your words. Would you like me to remind you what you said?"

"That will be unnecessary." Severus snapped with a bite to his words. He knew he wasn't going to be able to get out of this one. "I had a feeling you would hold that against me… My coming here tonight was more to have a conversation and decide on what I should do to fulfill my side of the bargain. I'll have you know that I will _not_ be kind to the girl since she is in Gryffindor - I have a reputation to uphold."

Lucius shrugged. "I could care less how you treat her in appearances, Severus. All I ask is for you to keep her safe and alive."

"That is a bit difficult if she's not in my House, Lucius. I refuse to trail after her in the shadows just to keep watch of her.

"I'm sure you can arrange-" Lucius started, but was cut off by some gentle taps at the window.

The two men turned over to the source of the sounds.

"It's Draco's owl." Lucius said and went over to the window to let Bubo Bubo in. He removed the letter from Bubo Bubo and sent the owl back outside. Lucius opened the letter and smirked.

"Looks like Draco has already met Miss Nott." he said and handed over the letter to Snape who quickly skimmed through the letter.

"I'm sure Draco will get curious of her sooner or later. What will you tell him?"

"Let him be curious. Weren't you just saying that you can't freely keep an eye on Miss Nott with her being a Gryffindor? Who better to keep a watch of her than a classmate? Draco will be the perfect messenger to let us know what's going on, and he'll be perfectly unaware."

"I hardly think that Draco will be friends with a Gryffindor." Snape said with a roll of his eyes at the preposterous idea.

"I didn't say anything about them being _friends_ with each other. If you know your Godson as well as you think you do, you'd know that he's very adamant about proving himself. We'll wait for a little while to make sure Draco is interested in the girl, then I'll inform Draco that Miss Nott here is a "muggle-born", and Draco will feel obligated to make her life miserable. I'm sure he'll write to me about every detail, silly boy will think that it will impress me."

"You're sending your own son to bully Miss Nott?" Snape asked, clearly thinking that there was something wrong with this picture.

"It'll bound to happen sooner or later, Severus. Word will get out that Miss Nott is a muggle-born, since that is what she believes herself to be, and the other Slytherins won't let her off that easily. But snakes are quite proprietary creatures though, once a prey has been staked already, the others will back off. Besides, a little bullying never killed anybody, Severus. In fact, if memory serves correctly, it help Potter nab a wife." Lucius said wryly, smirking when Severus's eyes flashed in pain, then quickly turning to resolve to be part of Lucius plan.

"If anything," Lucius continued, examining his perfectly manicured fingers, "you'll see how Lily Evans may have turned out if you hadn't made that silly deal with me to ensure her safety… which is causing this little predicament of yours right now. Funny how things come around full circle."

Snape sighed and rubbed his temples. "Why not just let the world know that she's a Nott? That is the truth of the matter anyways."

"Absolutely not! The girl and her parents will be dead faster than you can say Quidditch. The girl may have magic in her blood, but that doesn't erase the fact that she's born to a Squib branch of the family. You may not be aware of this, but when old Pureblood families prune off the Squib family branches, they'll take out the whole branch, off-springs included, and the ones with magic are of no exceptions."

"That is definitely something I've not aware of."

"I wouldn't expect you to know it," Lucius said with a wave of a hand, "Truly fanatic Purebloods families, like the ones that still support inter-marrying within their own family tree, will never speak about the Squibs outside of their inner circle. Which reminds me, speaking of Squibs, I know Greengrass had a Squib newborn several months back. They killed the baby and passed it off as a still-born. I also heard the baby that Nott's wife carried, the one that caused her maternal death, was also a Squib. Nott had no problem with killing the baby for causing his wife to have postpartum hemorrhage. I'm positive that they'll have no problem with exterminating Squib siblings that they've never met."

"That's just… twisted, even by my standards." Snape muttered.

"Which is why we can't reveal Miss Nott's secret just yet. We'll find the right time to let her know. Her Grandfathers also left her Gringotts key in my care, as well as some paperwork to help prove her identity."

"Okay, I understand what I need to do. I'll be in touch, Lucius."

Severus made his way back towards the fireplace.

"Have a grand school year!" Lucius called out, eager to rile his friend before his departure. To his merriment, Snape sent him a narrowed look before green flames enveloped him and transported him back to Hogwarts.

* * *

 ** _A/N: Thank you silverglove, lilyflower49, marthapreston4, swishyla, ksouza3, and livvialivia for your review! I enjoyed seeing your perspective of the story._**

 ** _Livvialivia: I can't seem to PM you so I'll respond here. Yes, I originally planned to go through all the years at Hogwarts as long as there is an interest for it. This story should run parallel to the books, so the major events will happen in this story as well. I have no interest in rewriting the books verbatim, everything will be sparsely mentioned as how I have remembered it from reading the books many, many years ago. As for relationship with Draco and Hermione, definitely not in the beginning, but perhaps in later years. Hope this helps!_**


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter Ten: Pride**

 _-Two weeks after the Sorting, Slytherin Common Room-_

Draco was still fuming inside about his stupidity but as he watched the letter crackle and burn to ashes, he was, miraculously, somehow able to make peace with himself rather quickly. He leaned back into the couch, letting the comfortable cushions swallow him in. He crossed his left ankle to rest it on top of his knee, slowed his breathing, and his face relaxed into his usual condescending look that he wore on a daily basis.

Three years ago, he was, admittedly, a hot tempered mess. Being an only child born to a privileged Pureblood family would do that to you. That summer, his father was adamant about having his Godfather come in to teach him a few techniques to sort out and suppress his emotions, and Draco was grateful for it. He found that once his emotions were kept from bubbling to the surface, threatening to spill over, his mind no longer felt clouded by his rage which allowed him to think rationally.

It was an honest mistake. Simple as that. There was no point in mulling over it, he decided. How was he supposed to know that Know-It-All Granger was a damn Mudblood?

Mudbloods were a bit like mythical creatures to Draco. A slice of real life fiction, if you will. He had heard all about them, sure, but he had never met one in the flesh, nor did he ever have any reason to.

Being a Pureblood heir had its perks, and not having to deal with the commoners and the filthy was one of them. Ever since he could remember, Draco was taught that there were four types of wizards in the world:

There were the Purebloods, the noblest class of wizards in which he was part of. The Purebloods, especially the Sacred Twenty-Eight, were wizarding royalty. Most of these families had it all: looks, wealth, power, status, but above all, they had pride. The pride to maintain and continue the legacy set forth by the great Salazar himself was not something that any wizard could do. It was a task bestowed upon Purebloods at birth. It was an honor to be a Pureblood and this symbolism is something that not everybody could understand or appreciate.

Which leads to the Half-bloods, the wizards that weren't persistent enough to honor their bloodlines and decided to procreated with Muggles. They had no respect for themselves, showing blatant disregard for their blood status, and ultimately allowed their blood to be tarnished. They were weak. They were the fools that decided to follow their hearts over what should have been their duty to keep the line pure. They have lost their _pride_ and there is no way to get it back.

The Half-blood population had drastically increased in numbers in recent years, which is why it was ever more so important for the Purebloods to stand firm and to act upon their duty.

Then there were the Squibs, the unfortunate souls that were fallen from grace and weren't blessed with magic upon birth. Tragic creatures, really, and Draco pitied them.

Lastly there were the Mudbloods, the filthiest individuals that were of the lowest standings in the Wizarding caste system. These Mudbloods were not deserving of the gift of magic flowing in them, and for good reason.

There was a time when it was the Muggles that persecuted witches and wizards. The time was the mid 1600's, when 'Witch Trials' were all the rage. Before wizards were forced to hide their society away from Muggles, there was a time when they tried to co-exist peacefully with the Muggles. But their efforts were proved in vain.

The Muggles were scared of the unknown and terrified of the abilities that they did not possess. The Muggles framed and maimed the witches and wizards, blaming them for any supernatural occurrences or freak accidents that had nothing to do with them. For this reason, many ancestors of old Wizarding families were killed by the hands of these ruthless Muggles. These Muggles were decendants of those who did not hesitate to send their Wizarding ancestors on the noose for public execution and so, they should be ostracized for the felonies that their ancestors have caused.

What caught Draco off guard was that he hadn't expected Mudbloods to look so… normal… in fact, Granger could pass for a Half-blood, and maybe even a Pureblood, if she did something about that atrocious hair. But, he decided, her blood was surely of a dirty mud color. Not that he was interested in finding out. A part of him expected some sort of differentiation, a brand of some sort carved on their skin to identify themselves to the world as the scums that they were.

As he was sorting out his thoughts, Pansy, Crabbe and Goyle came back from dinner. Pansy was in a good mood upon finding Draco and jumped onto the couch to join him.

"There you are, Draco." Pansy purred, leaning into him. "I was wondering where you were when you didn't show up for dinner. Do you want me to go with you to pick up something from the kitchens?"

"I'm not hungry," Draco replied. "Though, - " He added after a pause, with a finger on his lips in thought, "actually come with me. There's someone that I want to hunt down. You too, Crabbe and Goyle, come with and grab any other Slytherin that you see on our way there."

Draco stood and made his way towards the door of the Slytherin Commons with Pansy keeping up next to him, and Crabbe and Goyle rounding up the back.

"Where are we going exactly?" Pansy asked, trying to match Draco's brisk gait.

"The library...we'll try the library first." Draco replied.

He was almost positive that she would be there.

It had only been two weeks since the start of the school year, but it was already notoriously known that the bookworm always spent her evenings in the library after dinner. If Draco had to take a guess, the 'Teacher's Pet' was most likely already overachieving on the next assignment that they had, which was probably not due until next week. The thought of it brought a sneer to his face as he reached the library.

The library was quite empty, seeing that the term just commenced. Madam Pince was behind a pile of books that she was attending to, manually tending to broken spines or fixing any damage on her precious tomes.

As the group of now eight Slytherins walked past her desk, Madam Pince simply shot them a calculated look that seemed to say, 'I'm watching you, don't even try stepping out of line," and continued her work.

Draco sent a curt nod towards the librarian's way and continued to lead the pack deeper into the vast library.

It didn't take long for him to find Hermione. The few times he happened to be in the library, he had noted that the girl had already found a designated table to work at. A true creature of habit, there she was, at the same table at the far east corner of the library next to the windows, a spot in which Hermione favored for the ample sunlight during the daytime.

Draco clicked his tongue. "Alone, as always," he commented as he approached Hermione.

Without looking up, Hermione could already tell who the owner of the voice was. The tell-tale drawl was a dead giveaway. What could Malfoy possibly want this late into the evening?

Hermione sighed and rested her quill in her ink pot. She placed a finger on her book to mark her place in the reading before looking up. With her eyebrows raised in feigned amusement, she commented back, "And you're surrounding by your lackeys, as per usual. I personally prefer quiet time to _think_ rather than surrounding myself with people that can't even contribute to a meaningful conversation."

Draco smirked at her smart retort. Before he could reply, Hermione continued.

"Tell me, Malfoy. Do you keep them around to make yourself appear more intelligent? It must be sad to need that sort of ego boost to get by each day." Hermione stuck her chin out defiantly. They may have her outnumbered, but her Gryffindor courage will prove to be more than enough to match them.

However, Draco didn't seem fazed at all, and he leaned into the table, closing their distance, with his palms flat on the surface for support. His face was very close to Hermione's and he could see the little specks of black in her hazelnut brown eyes.

"We're not here to talk about me, Granger." He whispered hotly, turning the conversation around. "We're here to talk about you."

Draco pushed himself off the table and straightened to his full height. He turned and walked a few small steps towards his posse before swiveling around to face Hermione again.

"I found out something interesting today. But first, tell me, Granger. Who were some of your more famous ancestors?"

"Why does that matter?" Hermione narrowed her eyes at him.

"Of course it matters." Draco said in a matter-of-fact tone. "Magic is passed down through your bloodline and the magical talent of your ancestors is a great indication of your magical potential. I, for one, have quite a long list of accomplished Malfoy ancestors… Ah, take Septimus Malfoy for example. He was a pivotal character of the 18th century, passing laws for the domestication of house-elves. You have my ancestors to thank for having your hot meals prepared and your room cleaned."

Hermione frowned at this. Even during her short time in the Wizarding world, she already found the treatment of house elves to be wrong and inhumane. Before she could reply, Draco cut in.

"Why do I even bother asking when I know the answer already. You're a Muggleborn." he said with a sneer. The Slytherins behind Draco started whispering heatedly amongst themselves.

Hermione's eyes widened. She hadn't been prepared to let others know of her Muggleborn status so soon. How did Malfoy find out?

"You're a filthy little _Mudblood_." Draco spat and took extra care to emphasize the derogatory term. "That's what you are, and what you will ever be- a charity case that Dumbledore decided to take in since you had a small hint of magic in your dirty blood."

By now, there were tears welling up in Hermione's eyes and even traces of fear were beginning to surface. She was biting down on her lower lip in efforts to keep them from quivering.

Hermione had read about the hatred that some wizards hold for Muggleborns. It was no secret that many of the Muggleborns were bullied at Hogwarts and some Professors even turn a blind eye to the bullying. She had been careful about not revealing her secret… what gave her away?

"I now understand why you're always in the library, Granger." Draco said coldly. "For what you lack in magical talent, you need to work ten times as hard to catch up with the rest of us. What are you trying to prove? That you're just as good as us? Learning the material in advance, showing off to the Professors…"

Draco slowly walked around the table to stand besides Hermione, who was frozen in place, terrified. Draco bent down so his lips were level with her ears.

"Know your place, Mudblood." Draco whispered with scorn and pushed Hermione's head into the open book that she was reading.

"Let's go." Draco nodded towards the Slytherins, who were all in awe of Draco's Pureblood exhibition. They followed his lead and some of the older boys patted him on the back, commending him on showing the Mudblood her rightful place.

As the group walked away, they heard Hermione violently crying to the book that Draco pushed her face into.

The textbook will surely be sullied by her tears. She'll have some explaining to do to Madam Pince, Draco thought with a smirk.

Oh well, not his problem.

* * *

 ** _A/N: Draco may seem a bit extreme in this chapter, but at this point of the story, he is a brain-washed young boy that can't see past the prejudice that was ingrained into him. I hope you're excited to see his character development._**

 ** _In the spirit of Thanksgiving, I am mighty thankful for all the support that you all have given me for this story. I have limited amount of time to write each week so your reviews and feedback mean the world to me and help pull me through long work weeks to push out the next chapter. So thank you: Angelica8051, Suzululu4moe, Sakura Lisel, swishyla, duj, ksouza3, lilyflower49, Guest "t", LanaLee1, Cares 1970, and to those that added this to their favorite/follow lists. Much love, and I'm sending an imaginary cookie to you all._**


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter Eleven: Alone**

For the next few weeks, after what she mentally refers to as the 'Malfoy Incident', Hermione kept her head down low in the halls to keep a low profile.

Her eyes darted left and right and with her peripheral vision, she saw the students whispering to each other, and she could only assumed that they were talking about her. By now, the whole school knew that she was a muggle-born thanks to Malfoy and his Slytherin cronies. Leave it to the Slytherins to spill her secrets… stupid gits.

To her surprise however, it would seem that most Purebloods were not hostile towards her, they merely ignored her whenever they could, which caused other students to follow suit. The Slytherins were slightly rude, sure, but really it was only Malfoy that threw her the cruel remarks every time they crossed paths in the halls.

Hermione wrapped her arms a little tighter around the textbooks that she was carrying in her arms as she headed towards the dungeons for double potions with Slytherin. It was silly, she knew, but hugging the books provided her a little bit of comfort. Books didn't, and well… _couldn't_ , judge her like people would, and there was way too much of that already.

Hermione kept her gaze to the floor and pushed past the cloaked students that milled about in the busy hallway as each student made their way to their respective classrooms. It didn't matter what color tie or scarf they wore, they couldn't possibly understand her situation. To make matters worse, she felt as if some of her own Gryffindors were isolating her. Just today, she overheard Ron speaking ill of her for being more proficient in charms than he was.

She felt so alone.

She just hoped that she could get through double potions without any mishaps or drawing attention to herself.

Hermione quietly slipped into the classroom and didn't make eye contact with anyone. Oblivious to Hermione, the apathetic eyes of the potion master followed her as she made her way towards the back corner of the room.

Snape's eyebrow twitched at the girl's recent odd behaviors, but he was careful not to show it. He noticed that the silly girl stopped raising her hand in that annoying pin-straight way and generally stayed fairly quiet during the class discussions. His eyes glazed over the classroom and just happened to catch the smirk that graced his Godson's face who was watching the girl's miserable entrance with relish. Snape pinched the bridge of his nose, feeling an onset of a headache. Honestly, the childish behavior of these fools were beyond him.

Hermione sat herself down next to Neville, one of the few people that didn't think ill of her. She gravitated towards the boy, but Hermione couldn't quite figure out if it was because Neville was also someone that had been bullied constantly by their peers as well, or whether she genuinely liked the clumsy boy.

Every time the Gryffindors had classes with the Slytherins, Hermione hunched herself over, willing herself to disappear in the background. If she wished for it enough, perhaps it would actually happen, she thought naively.

She desperately didn't want to face more of Malfoy's taunts.

When it was time for class to start, Snape drawled with irritation in his tone, "Quiet! -," and the class fell silent immediately. " -pass your assignments forward and open your textbooks to Chapter Three."

The shuffling of parchment and textbooks reverberated through the quiet dungeon as Snape turned and picked up a piece of chalk to write on the blackboard.

'Wiggenweld Potion,' Snape scrawled onto the blackboard and underlined it for emphasis.

"Anyone care to take a guess at what it is? Anyone?" He asked, and pointedly looked towards the muggle-born witch. Hermione kept her head down and pretended to copy down notes from the textbook.

"Pity." Snape murmured, mostly to himself.

While pacing the length of the classroom, he explained, "The Wiggenweld Potion is very much referred in conjunction with the Draught of Living Death. The latter, as we learned in the first class, if brewed properly, can allow the drinker to fall into a powerful sleep that can last indefinitely, and even feign death. The Wiggenweld Potion can be used as an antidote for such potion, because it can awaken a person from magically-induced sleep."

Snape paused while his students furiously jot down notes.

"As lore has it," he continued, "there was a Hag by the name of Leticia Somnolens that administered the Draught of Living Death to a princess in medieval England. Many thought that she was dead, but really she was placed in an enchanted slumber. A wizard later came along, and recognized it for what it was, and had the bright idea of putting the Wiggenweld Potion on his lips, and revived the princess with a kiss to not give away his identity as a wizard." Snape frowned in distaste. "He was deemed the princess's savior and later married the princess and became a prince."

"These stories, of course, spread to the muggles to become outlandish fairy tales. Isn't that right…Miss Granger. Care to tell us some of those titles?" Snape narrowed his eyes at Hermione, wondering if she really wasn't going to answer him.

"I don't know sir." Hermione replied in a small voice.

The potion master frowned and crossed his arms over his chest.

"Looks like our resident Know-It-All has lost her flair," Snape commented snidely. The Slytherins all snickered and the Gryffindors turned around to look at Hermione with pity.

"Alright, cauldrons out. We will learn to brew the Wiggenweld Potion today, which is child's play when compared to the difficulty of the Draught of Living Death. Even you won't be able to botch it up, Longbottom."

* * *

"Class dismissed." said Professor Snape.

His students quickly packed their things away and rushed out of the dungeons, relieved that the long potions session was over.

Draco kept an eye on the muggle-born as her head of curls bobbed up and down as she made her way down the steps and towards the front of the room. Draco picked himself up, slung his book bag casually over his shoulder and fell a few steps behind the girl. Just as he was about to open his mouth to call the girl, a voice stopped him and Hermione slipped outside the dungeons.

"Mr. Malfoy."

It was Snape, and Draco turned to his Godfather, a little annoyed. He had a witty comment to throw at the Mudblood.

His grey eyes looked up towards Snape, and Snape saw his childish determination to make fun of the poor girl that he thought was beneath him. How wrong he was, but it wasn't time to tell Draco yet of Hermione's Pureblood status. It was far too soon.

"Yes, Professor?"

Snape shook his head and decided better against commenting. "Never mind." he said. "Off you go."

Draco shrugged and raced out of the dungeon, hoping that he hasn't lost sight of Granger. When Draco was out of earshot, Snape murmured quietly, "You'll regret your actions one day, boy."

After pushing a few students out of his way, Draco turned the corner and saw who he was looking for.

"Granger!" he called out.

Hermione's back stiffened, but she kept walking. This angered Draco and he quickened his pace and caught up to her.

"You Mudblood filth, how dare you ignore me." Draco said crossly and reached out to grab her shoulder and forcefully spun her around. With one hand still gripped onto her cloak, he used his arm to push her against the corridor walls.

Hermione's book bag fell off her shoulder to the floor with a thud. "Don't call me that," she gritted out, with fire in her eyes towards this hateful boy.

"That's what you are." Draco sneered, voice dripping with venom. "I can't think of a more fitting name."

Draco released her and stepped back one step. "You were pathetic today. Couldn't even answer Professor Snape's question from your precious muggle world. You should go back to where you came from. What purpose do you even have here? You have no friends here, and moreover, you're not welcomed here. Just go home."

"You think I don't know?" Hermione cried out, her hand was at her sides clutched into tight fists. "You and other have been reminding me every single day! I get the point, Malfoy, you wish that I would just die and disappear, don't you!?"

Tears spilled out of her wide brown eyes and she mustered all her strength to shove Draco away from her. She reached down to grab her bag and she ran away from him, away from the crowd that was heading towards the Great Hall. Most people were heading there for dinner, but Hermione wanted to be as far away from the people that didn't give a care about her.

Draco was a bit startled at her comment and stood rooted at the spot.

Did he wish for her death?

No.

He had never in his life wished for an untimely death upon anyone. He just wanted her gone… simple as that. Her dying never crossed his mind, but the damn Mudblood's comment left him flustered, despite trying to shake it off. Though, feeling satisfied with himself seeing the know-it-all run off into the distance, Draco decided that it was grand time to join the Halloween feast in the Great Hall.

* * *

Not long into the feast, the doors suddenly burst opened and a bumbling Professor Quirrell came running in and he bellowed, "TROLLLLL! TROLLLLL IN THE DUNGEONS!"

* * *

The next morning, everything was back to normal and the Great Hall was packed with students getting breakfast. It was almost as if the incident with the Troll last night never happened.

But keywords, _almost_.

As Draco made his way through the Great Hall, his ears perked up when he heard the word 'Troll'. He strained his ears to try listen in to what the Ravenclaw students were saying without looking as if he was blatantly eavesdropping.

"…but it was a Troll….they could've died!..."

"They were Gryffindors…bravery surely clouded their judgment..."

"the troll got knocked-out…!"

"Epic battle… and from first years no less!"

Draco's eyebrows furrowed and the corners of his mouth curled to a frown. What did Gryffindork first years have to do with the Troll? What did he miss last night after they were ushered back to their common rooms?

His eyes found Pansy and Blaise at the Slytherin table and he nodded at them to acknowledge seeing them. Before reaching the Slytherin table, one more comment caught his attention.

"Hermione is sure brave to seek out the troll!" a Hufflepuff said.

Draco stopped in his tracks. The Mudblood went to look for the Troll? That couldn't be possible… she wouldn't have known about the Troll in the dungeons because he saw her running off in the opposite direction from the Great Hall. She couldn't have been in the Great Hall when Professor Quirrell barged in, making the announcement that caused a frenzy last night.

No, that can't be it. Draco shook his head and continued to the Slytherin table. When he reached Pansy and Blaise, he stepped over the bench and took a seat next to Pansy.

"You won't believe what I heard over there." Draco leaned in and addressed his two friends. "I heard that Mudblood Granger went to fight the Troll… ridiculous." He rolled his eyes at the preposterous thought that a first year, and a Mudblood no less, picking a fight with a full grown Troll.

"It's true though," Blaise told Draco and he smirked when Draco's mouth dropped opened really quick in disbelief before he snapped it closed.

"She was asking for a death wish, I suppose. Too bad the Troll didn't grant it to her, it'd be doing us all a favor by killing the stupid Mudblood." Pansy said nastily.

Draco flinched inwardly at Pansy's comment, but neither of his friends noticed. "I still can't believe that she took on the Troll on her own." Draco commented.

"Oh, she had help, mate." Blaise said. "From what I heard at least, Potter and Weasley were there as well."

Draco rolled his eyes. "If it isn't Saint Potter again." Draco spat.

He hated Harry. Harry _fucking_ Potter.

Potter had just gotten permission last week from the old bat McGonagall to play in the Quidditch games as a seeker for Gryffindor. Draco had asked his Godfather to let him on the team, but the potion master refused, and Draco was still bitter about it.

The Great Hall all of a sudden hushed when the double doors swung open and three people were walking in. Everyone, including Draco, looked up towards the doors and they saw Hermione, Harry, and Ron walking in. The three were chatting with smiles on their faces, oblivious to the fact that people were whispering about them just moments ago in the Great Hall.

The three looked very much like a trio of peas in a pod.

For the first time since entering Hogwarts, Hermione was happy.

She was glad to have friends.

* * *

 ** _A/N: Hello readers! I hope you liked this chapter. I honestly don't know how many muggle-borns there are in Hogwarts (and my research didn't prove fruitful), so I made the assumption that they're rare and that there's only a few each class. Anyways, do you have anything that you would like to see from year 1? If not, I'm moving on to the next year._**

 ** _Thank you reviewers carick of hunter moon, Guest "t", JessChen, cares 1970, ksouza3, and betty69blue for your kind input. Much love to everyone, and please review and let me know your thoughts. Oh, feel free to check out my other HP story if you haven't already, it's called_** **The Seven Year Reunion _. I promise it's good. Happy Holidays!_**


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter Twelve: Encounter**

The dirt path was getting less distinguishable with every step while the brush and foliage was only getting denser, making the trek following the silver-blue unicorn blood ever more challenging. With only the light from their wands, their vision was limited and the darkness surrounding them shrouded upon them ominously, threatening to swallow them whole if they happened to accidentally lose their wands.

 _What kind of disturbed punishment was this?_

Draco was asking himself this same question continuously over past hour. They should be copying lines or organizing books in the library, not venturing out in the middle of the night, and into the Forbidden Forest of all places! Didn't Dumbledore mention that the Forest was _forbidden_ to students during the sorting ceremony? Whose bright idea was it to have them serve detention here?

 _Right, the old hag McGonagall. Didn't know she had this sort of twisted side. Father will certainly be hearing about this and someone will need to lose their position._

In retrospect, he should've told Snape, but he didn't have potions that day and the Slytherin Head of House was absent during dinner. Thinking that their punishment was merely copying lines, Draco hadn't bothered looking for Snape for something so trivial.

Malfoy's frown deepened as his designer shoe clad foot stepped ankle deep into soft mud. He gritted his teeth as he felt the moisture from the gooey muck seep through his sock and onto his skin _. Disgusting and degrading_. He has never been treated like this his whole life. Someone needs to pay dearly for this.

At this point, Draco didn't bother to mutter his disapproval under his breath anymore. He loathed his company anyway, so he might as well make Potter's time miserable as well. It might actually provide him some sort of amusement.

It was just him and Saint Potter in this deep, dark forest. Oh, and the useless boarhound, that was currently sniveling in fear on his left.

"It's all your and that big oaf's fault, the reason why I'm stuck here in the first place. I know you're hiding a dragon, Potter, I saw it with my own eyes."

It wasn't clear to Draco whether Harry heard him or not. If he did, he didn't acknowledge him and continued down the path, with his _Lumos_ wand in one hand and the other hand pushing away any stray tree leaves that were at eye level.

"Give it a rest, Malfoy. The dragon is gone, you can't hold it against us anymore." Harry finally replied, without turning around. His eyes were trained on the unicorn blood and the trail of blood was getting thicker and thicker and the metallic scent wafted to their noses whereas it was not noticeable before. The wounded unicorn should be close.

Harry pushed past a low bush and entered a small clearing in the forest. Malfoy and Fang followed behind and stood next to Harry.

"There it is," Harry breathed. His eyes followed the last trail of blood to a glowing white mass sprawled on the ground.

The white unicorn was laying lifeless on its side propped against a tree. It had probably used the tree as support during its final moments before falling over. Now, it was a heap on the forest floor, with a puddle of its own blood staining it's pure white coat and mane. There was a five inch long gash along it's slender neck, the gash likely severing a major artery in the animal which explained the significant blood loss.

The boys took a few steps forward, holding their wands out to the dead animal for proper light to assess the wound.

"It's definitely made by a weapon, not a wand." Draco murmured his conclusion, feeling a little squeamish at the sight of the unicorn's rolled eyes, its mouth locked opened when it heaved it's final breath, and its limbs twisted in abnormal positions as it fell to the ground. "Look here and here, the wound is too jagged... a wand would've made a clean cut. It looks to me like the animal was impaled by a short dagger of some sort, and the animal was struggling to get away after the initial puncture."

"We better signal Hagrid," Harry said, looking away from the gory sight.

Right as Harry was about to aim his wand to the sky, there was a rustling sound coming from right behind the unicorn and the boys took a few frantic steps backwards and pointed the wands out in front of them, alarmed. A hunched, cloaked figure emerged from the shadows and the boys were appalled when the figure stooped down to drink the unicorns blood, ignoring the armed boys altogether.

"Wh-what are you doing?" Harry questioned, after finding his voice. "Who are you?"

Still with two wands directed at the figure, the boys were on edge and backed up even more as the figure slowly rose to its full height. Fang whimpered and bolted away back into the forest to which Draco growled, "useless mutt!"

The figure was still shrouded in darkness and besides for the shining opalescent eyes and the shimmering unicorn blood dribbling from its chin, the boys couldn't make out the face of the figure.

"Get away from us, we're not afraid to hurt you." Draco shouted, though there was a slight quiver to his voice, sounding a little unsure of himself.

Then, a chilling voice fill the air, sending a shiver down their spine. "Ah…" the figure breathed. "The Boy Who Lived… and… The Chosen One…"

The figure took a step forward and Draco turned to look behind them only to be met with trees. They were already pushed to the edge of the clearing, there was no place for them to run. They could only stumble through the thick forest if they wanted to escape the confrontation. The figure edged another step closer and without warning, Harry burst into screams while clutching his forehead. Draco's face paled and his eyes widened as he saw Harry fell forward on his knees and to the ground.

 _Was that non-verbal magic? Bloody hell, we are in such deep shit._

Without taking a second glance down at the fallen boy, he bellowed " _Flipendo_ " and he smirked as his jinx hit the figure square in the chest - but it only managed to stagger him backwards a few steps. Draco's smirk fell and in panic, he raked his head for other spells.

" _Diffindo!_ " He cried and the figure seemed to dodge it in slow motion, and Draco was only successful in cutting off bits of the figure's cloak.

Draco let out a roar of anguish, a fleeting thought that he was too young to die crossed his mind before he threw jinx after jinx and hex after hex at the figure, but was only successful in staggering it further, but not able to make the figure retreat.

The figure was only a dozen paces away now and Potter's ear splitting screams were getting to his head. He covered his ears in an attempt to mute Harry's screams and he scurried behind a tree trunk, leaving a writhing Potter on the dirt ground, rolled up into a ball in pain. Just as he thought that all hope was gone, a centaur busted through the trees and with a drawn bow and arrow in hand, the half-man half-horse aimed it menacingly at the figure.

"You monster! Leave or I shoot!" the centaur barked.

The hooded figure, sensing danger, darted into the trees, and his cloak made slithering sounds through the brush until the forest was silent again except for Potter's heaves and pants, trying to recover from the pain.

* * *

Needless to say, the next morning Lucius Malfoy was livid when he read the page long letter from Draco (full of dense, small, text), recounting the events that occurred that night, where _students_ were forced to serve detention in the Forbidden Forest.

After sending a few letters to some folks in the Ministry and receiving a favorable response, Lucius sent a short note over to Severus Snape with the words "NOW. -L.". If he had to write any more words, he feared more quills would be snapped in two from his rage. Lucius already ruined six quills writing the letters and that brief message.

When the floo roared to life in the fireplace of his office, and Severus's head appeared, Lucius made a few long strides over, while picking up a small chair along the way, and dropped the chair in front of the fireplace and threw himself on it angrily.

"You!" He bellowed with an accusatory finger, "almost allowed my son to be _killed_."

"I assure you that had I known McGonagall had sent my Godson to serve detention with the oversized man with brains the size of a walnut, I would have intervened." Severus said calmly.

"You didn't know?"

"No." Severus confirmed. "Dumbledore is looking into this quite seriously, as it was quite uncharacteristic for McGonagall to send students into the Forbidden Forest dead into the night. Of course, this is an internal investigation so I'd appreciate if this information stays between us."

Lucius nodded, silently giving his word.

"Dumbledore thinks that McGonagall's memory has been altered and she was prompted to deliver that particular detention sentence."

"Altered?" Lucius sat up straighter in his chair. This is surprising development. McGonagall was an established witch, even Lucius couldn't deny this fact.

"I think one of the Dark Lord's men has infiltrated Hogwarts." Severus continued, and after a pause, he said "And I don't mean me."

"Bloody hell." Lucius cursed. He leaned forward to the man in the fire. "Then the cloaked figure, the one drinking unicorn blood…"

"Could very well be the Dark Lord himself." Severus finished for him. "You know very well the effects of unicorn blood. All leads point to him."

Lucius ran a hand through his hair and then rub his chin in deep thought. "Is Draco ready to start Occlumency lessons?"

"Yes. He's just about ready. I can start him next month."

"The earlier the better, Severus." Lucius let out a tired sigh and added, "Thank you."

Severus threw him a meek grin, somewhere caught between a smile and a smirk.

"Oh, before I forget, something good did come out of this ordeal."

"What would that be?" Snape asked with a raised eyebrow.

"After a few letters to certain individuals in the Ministry containing some _carefully_ chosen words, I've been appointed chairman of the Hogwarts Board of Governors for the next school year." Lucius's smile looked too devious to be of any genuine intent.

"What are you planning to do now? Trying to sack Dumbledore?"

"Why of course! And then you can be Headmaster!" Lucius laughed wholeheartedly.

Snape found this less amusing and he frowned.

"I don't want to be Headmaster." Severus answered in a deadpan tone, knowing full well that Dumbledore was the best Headmaster that Hogwarts has seen in a very long time.

There would only be one reason as to when Dumbledore would relinquish his title as the Headmaster of Hogwarts…

If Dumbledore was dead.

* * *

 ** _A/N: It is Christmas Eve here in the beautiful Hong Kong, consider this my Christmas present to you all. Happy Holidays!_**

 ** _I do apologize for the long wait, I had a bit of a block trying to get this chapter all sorted out and to fall into place properly. Just to be clear, Voldemort is referring to Draco when he said "The Chosen One". Be excited! Lucius will meet Hermione in the next chapter!_**

 ** _Thank you reviewers mega700201, cares 1970, LanaLee1, ksouza3, adwitiya, livvialivia, The Butterfly Dreamer and multiple Guests for your support and encouraging words._**

 ** _Special thanks to the following reviewers and below are my responses:_**

 ** _"T" - Thank you for your idea to have more conversation with Lucius and Snape. I do agree that they are the drivers of the plot at this point, so I have added them to this chapter._**

 ** _"Guest" - I do expect Draco to feel like shit when he finds out how he directed means comments to someone that was all of a sudden, just as "pure" as he was. He will be confused for sure. As for when I move to the next book, it will still be part of this fic, so you'll know where to find it!_**

 ** _"LanaLee1" - The beginning of the next chapter, I'll wrap up "The Sorcercer's Stone" and I'm planning to incorporate a part about the year-end celebration. Thank you for the idea, and thanks to you, I reread the last charter of Book 1 to remember how it actually ended. I was wrong! Turns out the whole school did know about their heroic acts!_**

 ** _"Guest" - I am excited for later chapters as well :) In terms of your questions: 1. The reveal will likely happen in year 3 or year 4, I haven't decided yet, but I'll be dropping clues for Hermione starting year 2. 2. I'd love to incorporate some familial resemblance of the Nott family but I'm honestly not too familiar with their traits besides Theo being "tall and thin". That's why I haven't mentioned it and left off any physical description of Nott Sr. I'd appreciate any ideas! 3. I plan to incorporate this to some degree. Rest assured!_**


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter Thirteen: Summer**

" _Legilimens_."

Severus Snape felt the familiar pull after he uttered the incantation and he was once again, falling into the depth of his Godson's mind. He shook his head, slightly displeased. They have been training three times each week during the summer holidays, and at least a dozen sessions have gone by. Draco has made progress, sure, but he was still putting up very little resistance against his half-assed Legilimency Spell.

 _So, what will I take a look at today?_ Snape mused in his head as he flipped through Draco's memories. Highly an invasion of privacy, but it offered some entertainment for Snape and it kept both Lucius and himself aware of what's going on in Draco's life to better protect him. Of course, Snape never left traces that he's been looking through his memories (unless he purposely wanted to), and he never sifted through his private ones either (there were things that Snape preferred not to see).

There were numerous scenes where Draco was trying to get Potter, Weasley, and Granger in trouble, as well as a plethora of memories where Draco taunted Granger with 'Mudblood' remarks. These, Snape has seen in prior training sessions already. He saw how Miss Granger's tears during the beginning of the school year transitioned to fierce banters and retorts against the Slytherins (Draco mostly, he noted) as the year progressed. Her confidence and self-worth increased day by day with the introduction of her friendship with Potter and Weasley. If Snape was being brutally honest with himself, he was more than a smidgen pleased to see Granger holding her own just fine. Perhaps back then, his Lily would have done just as well herself without his involvement, practically begging Lucius for her protection.

A memory caught his eye and he decided to dawdle his time on it. It was a recent memory, one of the End-of-Term-Feast which he was quite familiar with, being present there himself. Snape held his gaze over at the Slytherin table where an overly zealous Draco was cheering and banging his goblet on the table with his fork, sloshing pumpkin juice all over the table without a care about his expensive robes. It was a momentous ceremony, where the Slytherins were to be crowned the victors of the House Cup for yet another year.

However, when Dumbledore announced additional points to be awarded, Draco's face fell and Snape could feel the excitement dissipate fast and hard, and was replaced with a feeling of sickening anticipation.

"Fifty points?!" Draco pounded his fist on the table at the unjustly awarded points to the Weasel. "Who awards fifty points for a blasted game of chess?" The Slytherins around Draco agreed wholeheartedly and they started yelling their disbelief at Dumbledore, who just glanced over them with a twinkle in his eye, as if promising that more was yet to come.

"Silence!" Dumbledore bade and the room fell quiet. With a smile, Dumbledore continued, "Second, to Miss Hermione Granger, for the use of cool logic in the face of fire, another fifty points for the Gryffindor House."

The response was undeniably clear, the Gryffindors let out an all mighty roar for gaining one hundred points whilst the Slytherins hissed at their rivals, hoping to keep them at bay. The Slytherins felt threatened, after all, two out of the three of the Golden Trio were awarded points… and fifty apiece! They were only sixty points ahead, and the old geezer was clearly not shy about showing his favoritism towards his alma mater house this evening. Things were not looking in their favor.

Draco's face furrowed to an unattractive frown as he looked across the room and spotted the bushy-haired girl, but Snape could tell, he wasn't as angry with this allotment of points to Miss Granger as he was with the last award to Mr. Weasley. In fact, Snape could feel the conflicting feelings in Draco's mind. He was angry that the Gryffindors were gaining in on them in points, worried that with this trend of events, that Dumbledore will award even more points to his pet house, jealous that the Golden Trio were getting all the distinction, disgusted that the Muggleborn was being awarded points… but between all these negative emotions, there was a tinge of admiration for the girl to have the bravery and smarts to stand up to the trials set by their professors. He had to admit, logic doesn't come naturally to many wizards even of the purest pedigree.

Draco visibly froze after the thought crossed his mind. As quickly as it came, Snape felt shame wash over his Godson's mind before his natural defenses snapped back into place, and the familiar sneer returned to his face. He wasn't allowed to have these traitorous thoughts. His teachings forbade it.

Snape felt sorry for the boy, the boy who was taught to hold nothing but pure hatred towards Muggleborns. Granger was a Muggleborn in name but not in fact, and the poor girl was feeling the full wrath from the bigots. Snape's stoic face softened before forming a sad, nostalgic smile, his thoughts once again fluttered to his beloved Lily.

Snape sighed, looking at the blonde boy, sulking at the table between Parkinson and Zabini.

"It's okay to realize that not everything that you're told is correct." he murmured.

A part of him wished that his Godson could hear him, but really, Draco needs to realize this for himself. With another long, heavy exhale, Snape turned his away, cloak swishing about him, and pulled out of the memory, not wanting to relive Dumbledore robbing the Slytherins of their seventh consecutive House Cup.

* * *

Pulled back to the present, Snape found Draco still standing, but breathing heavily, after trying to clear his mind to resist his Godfather's _Legilimens_. His steely grey eyes looked up towards his Godfather with frustration at yet another failure. With his left hand balled into a hard fist, enough to create crescent moon imprints into his flesh, and his wand clutched tightly in his right, Draco said through clenched teeth, "Uncle Sev, what's the point. I'm no good at this."

Snape wasn't a fan of the moniker, but he let it slide, not wanting to make Draco even more depressed.

"You're doing just fine Draco. Occlumency is a rare and difficult form of magic. I don't expect you to master the basics until another year or two. Don't be too hard on yourself."

"Another year or two!?" Draco exclaimed, appalled at what great lengths and the sacrifice of his free time that this training would take. He could be playing Quidditch with Blaise and Theo if it weren't for these blasted training sessions. "Why do I need to do learn this anyway?" he asked defiantly, arms folded across his chest and lips forming a pout.

"Well…" Snape started lamely, but didn't know how to explain it to Draco. His brain worked quickly to come up with a plausible response. He can't possibly tell Draco that the Dark Lord has chosen him as his heir and that he and his father were devising a plan to save him.

It was definitely the Dark Lord that Draco saw in the Forbidden Forest that night, whether Draco knew it or not (judging from his memories, he didn't). If the Dark Lord detects any them plotting against him, then the whole Malfoy family were as good as dead.

"All Malfoys through the generations are skilled Occlumens, so you must master it." Snape said finally.

That seemed to appease Draco and Snape let out a breath of relief. Draco looked to be contemplating on the fact before finally asking, "Then, my father knows it?"

Snape nodded, "Quite skilled at it."

"My grandfather knew it?"

"Yes, and your mother too."

"Alright, let me try again." Draco said and stood in position. Snape smirked. That was why he favored his Godson.

" _Legilimens_."

* * *

The weeks flew by quickly, and it was once again the time of year where parents and students alike flock to Diagon Alley to purchase their school supplies in preparation for the start an exciting new school year.

Draco had just received his Hogwarts letter that morning, and when he told his parents, Lucius just tapped his index finger on his lips twice and as though something was preoccupying his mind, he murmured absentmindedly without looking at his son, "Let's pick up your things today. Yes… today will be good, I need to make a stop at Borgin and Burkes."

His son didn't know what to make of it, and just replied, "erm, sure, Father."

"Lucius?" Narcissa asked, with a hint of worry in her voice. She touched Lucius arm and that seemed to bring him back to reality.

Lucius blinked twice and his eyes focused back onto Draco and Narcissa. He stood up a little hastily from his chair and said, "If you'll excuse me, I need to collect a few things. It shouldn't take long, Draco… and then, we can go and get your things after a stop at Knockturn Alley."

* * *

Diagon Alley was as busy as ever, packed with Hogwarts students accompanied by their parents to purchase their school supplies for the new school year. The noise from the hustle and bustle carried through the walkway all the way to Knockturn Alley.

"Not sure if I want to join the fray," Lucius muttered, and Draco nodded in agreement.

With matching confident strides, Lucius and Draco Malfoy emerged out of the dark alley that served as the connecting street to Knockturn Alley, their business there was complete.

"Here Draco," Lucius said and gestured for his hand. Draco felt some coins being dropped into his open palm. They were the galleons that they had just gotten from the sale at Borgin and Burkes. Draco looked as his father and silently questioned what the coins were for with a single arch of an eyebrow.

"For the purchases of your school supplies." Lucius said in a clipped tone. "The rest will be your allowance for the month. Use it as you please."

Draco smirked and dropped the coins in his pocket, liking the healthy weight of them. "Thank you, Father."

The two walked further down the street, their first stop being Flourish and Blotts to pick up Draco's textbooks.

"By the way, what was the little black book that you said was 'not for sale'?" Draco asked, looking up towards his father.

The cold leer from Lucius eyes already spoke volumes and Draco knew he shouldn't have asked the question. It was too late to take back his words now. Draco stiffened and prepared for the worst.

"Forget that you ever saw it. It's an old book from your Grandfather's study, it must've gotten mixed in somehow."

"Alright, Father."

Draco knew better than to ask further questions judging from Lucius's firm tone. The pair was silent the rest of the way to the bookstore. To their surprise, Flourish and Blotts seemed to be the most crowded since Gilderoy Lockhart was there doing a fan signing for his new memoir.

Lucius rolled his eyes, "What people see in that peacock of a man, I will never know. Come Draco, let's grab your books and take our leave."

Draco nodded and climbed up to the second floor to pick up his Potion and History of Magic textbooks while Lucius went to find the Transfiguration and Care for Magical creatures textbooks. With all the people that were pushing up against his personal bubble, Lucius was not afraid to shove people out of his way. He really should have just had the elves pick up the school materials rather than doing the dirty work himself. After collecting the books, he turned and on his way back to meet Draco, he saw a familiar red head of hair.

"Ahh, if it isn't Arthur Weasley, 'Muggle Extraordinaire'," Lucius said in a mocking tone and a smirk gracing his features.

Arthur turned and didn't look too pleased to see Lucius, but he gritted out a polite reply. "Lucius. Fancy seeing you here."

"So true. Normally, I'd have my elves pick up Draco's school materials, but seeing that I needed to do run a personal errand, I decided a stop by Diagon Alley isn't too much of a trouble. But, this is a rude reminder as why I never come here on Hogwarts shopping days -" Lucius clicked his tongue and shook his head after languidly surveying the area, "-the place is absolutely filled with filth and swine-lovers."

Lucius was delighted that Arthur's tone was changed to a higher register, and was thoroughly amused at how easy he could rile up the man to turn the color of his hair.

"Who are you to speak like that, Lucius." Arthur spat, "You're not any better than the rest of us."

Lucius scoffed, opening his arms to gesture towards himself in an up and down motion. "Don't be delusional, Arthur. I'm a Malfoy. Fame, wealth, status -" he eyed Arthur and made a point to stop at his slightly protruding gut before stopping back on his face, "Looks…" Lucius continued and ticked off each point with his fingers, "in short, I have everything that you don't. If you think that doesn't separate us, then you are absolutely mad."

The red faced Arthur was visibly fuming, and the rage got to his head. He threw a punch at Lucius's pretty face, but missed as Lucius dodged out of the way, and lost balance and fell forward into Lucius. Appalled that he was having bodily contact with the man he detested, Lucius roughly shoved him back and Arthur stumbled back into a bookshelf, causing many books to fall to the ground in the process. The commotion quickly brought other shoppers to rush towards the scene.

"Arthur!? Is that you!? Stop this instance!" Mrs. Weasley's voice boomed from the other end of the store.

"Gentlemen! Settle down!" Cried the shopkeeper and held down Lucius's fist. Lucius huffed and jerked his hand away from the shopkeeper's grip. He straightened his suit and brushed off his sleeves haughtily.

By this time, Draco was back at his father's side and the Weasley clan, as well as Hermione and Harry, were with Arthur.

Lucius's artic grey eyes bore onto the multiplying number of red heads with a look of disgust. As he swept over the Weasleys to finally land on Harry and Hermione, his expression changed to that of amusement. Finally some wizards that were worth his time.

"Mr. Potter," Lucius said before turning to Hermione, "and you must be, Ms… Granger."

* * *

 ** _A/N: Happy New Year to my lovely readers all over the world. Hope the New Year is off to great start for you and that this chapter tickled your fancy. Thank you so much to the reviewers and supporters for the last chapter: mega700201, Runaway Fantasy Princess, multiple "Guests", care 1970, Yuuki Kuchiki, Guest "T", EmilyWoods, ksouza3, and Ceralyn._**

 ** _Love to hear what you think and if you have any scenes that you would especially like to see from their Second Year. This chapter's Year-End-Feast scene was inspired by one of LanaLee1's comment. Thank you._**

* * *

 ** _Responses:_**

 ** _To "Guest": Draco doesn't realize that the 'chosen one' is referring to him. I just liked to clarify to the readers that the 'chosen one' is really referring to him. As for why Voldy chose him, mostly for the prestige that comes with the Malfoy name._**

 ** _To "cares1970": Love your input, thank you!_**

 ** _To Guest "T": Rowling does refer to Harry as the 'chosen one' and in this story, everyone (except for Severus & Lucius/Narcissa) understands it as such as well. Voldemort chose Draco as his heir, which is why Draco is the 'chosen one' in this story. Great guess on the bookstore scene :)_**

 ** _EmilyWoods: Thanks for the descriptors! I'll definitely keep the attributes in mind. I think I'll go with the duckling stage. I don't think Hermione was ever that hideous. Her looks were just not her priority and she had self esteem issues. Thanks for pointing out that the 'chosen heir' scene was a long time ago. I adjusted this chapter to serve as a reminder. I'll try my best for once a week, it really depends on my work schedule and my busy season is coming up unfortunately. :(_**


	14. Chapter 14

**Chapter Fourteen: Meeting**

"Miss Granger. I for one have been very interested in meeting you. I heard many thing about you -"

"-Nothing good, I'd expect, coming from your son." Hermione commented with a frown and a spared cold glance in Draco's direction. Draco received the glance with vehemence and returned the favor with a sneer and a hiss, not unlike a snake that was ready to strike an enemy. The exchange did not escape Lucius's keen eye and he realized, that the hate between the two was mutual.

Lucius angled his heads backwards a bit, and peered down at Hermione with what could only be described as a condescending demeanor in appearance.

"On the contrary, Miss Granger." he said, in a tone laced with slight amusement.

There was amusement, but Hermione was surprise that there was no malice in his voice.

"I quite recall that Draco frequently wrote to me about your good marks and an astonishingly proficient talent with magic. Which of course, prompts me to question why he is always caught in the position of "second best" in a majority of his classes. But I must admit that I am quite surprised to say the least, considering your…-" Lucius paused as he mulled for the right word, "-less than ideal upbringing."

"Why you little…-" Ron started with clenched fists at his side. He didn't get a chance to complete his thought as Hermione interrupted him with a rolled her eyes and scoffed, "Oh, that's rich…like father like son. Because I'm muggleborn, you think I'm filth and not worthy to breathe the same air as you do."

Hermione felt Harry nudged at her side and he whispered, "Hermione, stop it." She was only fueling the fire and giving the two Malfoys the satisfaction of it.

Harry hated it when Hermione looked down upon herself. She was the most brilliant witch in their year, and there's no need for her to justify herself, much less to the self-righteous, entitled, bigot that had learned to hate muggleborns ever since he developed hearing in the womb. No doubt the Malfoy family would whisper "Mudbloods are scum" and "Detest Mudbloods with every fiber of your being," and other like phrases to any pregnant woman carrying the Malfoy heir. Harry was sure of it, with the insane measure that the Malfoys succumb themselves to in order to maintain the so called "blood purity".

Lucius shook his head and with raised eyebrows, he again peered down at Hermione, but with severely intense eyes. "Those words did not come out of my mouth, Miss Granger, they came out of yours. Remember that."

There was a long silence where no one in the group knew what to do. Ginny fidgeted her feet and finally set down the heavy cauldron containing her first year textbooks. The dense weight from carrying her textbooks finally took its toll on her and carved two thin, painful, red marks onto the flesh of her fingers where the handle was. They were standing there for far too long and the pain in her hands were getting too hard for her to bear.

Lucius's eyes flickered to the cauldron at sound of the _clunk_ when the metal bottom strike the floor, but they quickly were settled back at Hermione and the over to Harry. More specifically, he was transfixed on Harry's scar. Harry gulped and looked a little uneasy.

Arthur cleared his throat and that seemed to break the trance that he had on the only living proof that witnessed the Dark Lord's failure. Naturally, it reminded him of the Dark Lord and his short lived legacy.

Finally, Lucius turned to Draco and said, "Draco, let's finish our shopping. We have wasted enough of our time here with these people.

Draco nodded.

"Arthur" Lucius addressed the man, "I do hope that you spend a little more time at work. What is it that they hire you to do again? Oh yes, playing around with those useless muggle trinkets. They do pay you overtime at your department, yes? It would seem that you need to work a little bit harder to provide for your family, judging from those clothes that are dreadfully out of style, -" Lucius took one stride over towards Ginny's cauldron and picked up the books with one quick motion, "-and these tatty second hand books…"he dropped them unceremoniously back into the cauldron, "or perhaps…you were ill-advised to chase after a daughter. Should have stopped after the third try if you can't afford to feed them."

Draco looked up at his father with a questioning gaze. He wasn't sure, but his father's last comment sounded particularly hardened and had a sort of bitterness in his tone. No. Draco decided that it was surely just his imagination.

"My family's well-being is of none of your concern, Lucius." Arthur bit out and pointed a finger at the blond aristocrat. Arthur was barely suppressing his rage and his red haired clan were all sporting deep frowns of contempt towards the man.

Lucius let out a long, drawn, _hmmmmmm_ and didn't bother to further entertain Arthur's comment. Though as a parting gift, he smirked and added, "I suppose when times come dire, don't hesitate to ask for my help. I suppose I can offer a little bit of… charitable contribution your way." He laughed, "I'll see you at work."

With a turn, he gestured for Draco to follow him.

"See you at school, Potter." Draco sneered.

"Let's go," Arthur huffed and nodded towards the door.

Ginny rubbed her palms together to try to ease the soreness before bending down to pick up the cauldron again. She heave the cauldron up with both hands. Hmm, that's odd, she could've sworn that it felt several ounces heavier than before.

* * *

As the Weasleys and company were leaving, their conversation caught Draco's attention and he turned back and caught the tail end of the banter between the Golden Trio.

"Ronald! Stop pulling my hair!" Hermione turned around and snapped at Ron, with a stern look on her face and arms crossed at her waist.

"What?" Ron replied with wide eyes. Hermione gave him a hard stare. Ron shoved his hands in his pockets and rocked back and forth on the balls of his feet and looked down, guiltily. "Well, it wasn't me this time."

" _This time?_ " Hermione emphasized shrilly. "So it was you earlier today at Gringotts! And you were denying it and implied that I wronged you and you outright 'made - me - feel - bad'." she punched Ron lightly in the arm with the emphasis of every word.

"Ouch!" Ron's hand quickly went to cover the sore spot on his arm. His partner in crime, Harry, was giggling into his hand out of amusement. Ron's eyes narrowed before forming a sly smile. "You know, Harry was in on it too-" he pointed out nonchalantly, "-us two were trying to see how many times we couldn't get away with it before you'd notice." Ron sneaked around behind Ginny and used her as a living shield between Hermione and himself.

"Harry Potter!" The girl's eyes were now set on the raven haired boy. Harry gulped in anticipation of his punishment, and Hermione did not disappoint. She smacked him in the arm as well while muttering 'you-two-are-insufferable", albeit with a small smile on her face. Harry rubbed the spot gingerly with his palm and the three friends burst out in laughter.

Mr. and Mrs. Weasley walked briskly over to round them up from the back, and ushered the members of the ginger family towards the door. To Draco, they looked very much like shepherd dogs herding sheep in the pasture.

"Let's go, let's go," Mrs. Weasley hurried. "We have a few more stops to go. At this rate we'll never make it home by supper time."

The pair of grey eyes rolled at the exchange, and Draco scoffed, "Stupid Gryffidorks," under his breath. He turn to his father just in time to see his father stifle an inward laugh and Lucius gingerly tucking one dragon-leather gloved fist into his pocket while other hand, the one carrying his wand, was placed behind Draco's back. He looked very pleased with himself as he guided Draco towards the register.

"Come, son, pay for your things and we'll get you a new set of robes at Madam Malkin's." He surveyed his son with a critical eye. "I must say, you've grown quite a bit this summer."

Draco nodded with a smirk and dropped the books at the register. "Must have to do with the _Quidditch_ practicing over the summer with Blaise and Theo." The boy had emphasized the word 'Quidditch' and Lucius caught on.

"No need to remind me like so, my boy." Lucius said tutted, "I remember. So don't worry your perfect little blond head off. We'll stop at Broomstix to order some brooms."

Draco laughed and replied. "Of course father. Can't get anything past you." Draco threw down a few coins at the shopkeeper and took the bag of books from him and slung it over his shoulders.

"Though you can try." commented Lucius slyly with a chuckle, and place his arm around Draco's shoulder. "Come, let's go."

* * *

 ** _A/N: Hello, dears! I do apologize for not being able to update sooner and do ask for your understanding. I'm working 60-70 hours weeks right now (for the next few weeks as well). I do promise that I am writing at every opportunity that I can get._**

 ** _Thank you so much for your support for this story! As of this chapter, there has been 100 reviews, close to 300 alerts, and almost 130 people that marked this story as one of their favorites. I am very grateful for your continual support and am delighted that you take time to read the story and to leave thoughtful reviews and comments. Truly touched._**

 ** _Before this A/N gets too long, I'd like to thank you reviewers: multiple "Guests", EmilyWoods, cares 1970, Suzululu4moe, mega700201, JuliSt, "t", and Runaway Fantasy Princess. Thanks for posting ideas that you want to see in year 2 as well as some very valid questions for me to mull over to make sure the story makes sense._**

 ** _Oh, and this chapter is LOADED with connections to past chapters and clues about the future ones. Leave a signed review/PM and I'll let you know if you've spotted them. :) Until next time!_**

 ** _P.S. Taking a moment to mourn the loss of Alan Rickman as well. RIP, kind soul. You were a legend. I will forever be imagining you as Snape when writing about him._**


	15. Chapter 15

**Chapter Fifteen: Snape**

Inside Professor Snape's office was the very _last_ place Harry and Ron would want to find themselves in. But alas, after they had crashed Mr. Weasley's enchanted car into the Whomping Willow, and the car, having a mind of its own, had rudely tossed them out of the car and onto their behinds before driving away, it was Snape that had responded to the scene first. The Professor had rushed over in quick strides, his billowing cloak catching the breeze as he went, and his wand lighting the way.

He had looked livid, and the sneer on his face had seemed more accentuated than usual with the shadows playing against the frown lines on his face.

Harry and Ron had looked at each other and gulped. They were in trouble, and they knew it.

"Potter and Weasley," Snape had said. His voice had been cold, sending a chilling shiver down the boys' spines. "How nice for you two to join us fashionably late and causing havoc in the process to announce your arrival. Follow me."

Snape had sent the two boys a withering look before he had turned and started walking briskly back towards the castle, not bothering to help the boys with their trunks.

That was all over thirty minutes ago and now, Harry and Ron fidgeted in their seats, waiting for Snape to get back to his office. He had went back to the Great Hall to inform Professor Dumbledore of the current situation.

"We're done for," Ron exclaimed, hands fisting his ginger hair. "they're going to expel us, I just know it!"

The door to the office squeaked opened and Snape rushed in with what looked like the evening post in his hand.

He slapped the newspaper down on the table with force and it unfurled to the cover page. Harry and Ron's heart stilled after seeing the headline and the moving picture of them driving in the air with Muggles gasping and pointing all around them.

"You two," Snape said with an angry drawl, "jeopardized our wizarding society with your reckless actions. I've already known that two have poorly developed brains, but rather than causing self-harm with your carelessness, you get into this sort of trouble that not only reflects poorly on our school but also cause a lot of problems for the Ministry to clean up your mess."

It was amazing that Snape could say so many words all in one breath. Feeling the need to justify his actions, Harry lamely said, "B-but, the wall at the platform wouldn't let us in, we didn't know what to do…"

"Yea, we had to get to Hogwarts somehow!" Ron added, with an added panic to his voice.

Snape rubbed his temples and felt the onslaught of a migraine coming. "How _is_ it that you two are so _daft_? The Hogwarts Express is the most effective way to transport students to the school, but by all means it isn't the _only_ way. Had you two resisted the temptation to act out irrationally in accordance to that pea sized brain of yours, then you could've reunited with Weasley's parents, and they could have contacted the school and we would arrange for another way to get you to Hogwarts."

The two boys let out a small "oh" and were quiet. They hadn't thought about that at all.

"If it were up to me," Snape growled menacingly, "you both would be expelled and on a one way trip back to where you came from - "

At this moment, Dumbledore walked in and his voice floated over before he appeared from the hallway, "Aptly said, Severus, but alas, the decision is not up to you."

Professor Dumbledore and Professor McGonagall appeared around the corner and Harry and Ron let out a breath that they didn't realize they were holding.

* * *

Snape's eyes followed the back of the boys' heads as they exited with Professor McGonagall, who was taking her charges back to the Gryffindor tower and also delivering out the details of their one month detention sentence.

Dumbledore and Snape, now alone, stared at each other, neither willing to comment first. But it was Snape that broke that silence since he knew Dumbledore could keep at this all night, and all with a placid little smile on his face. The man was brilliant, that fact, Snape was at peace with acknowledging, but he annoyed Snape so much with that calm and collected demeanor of his.

Snape silenced and locked the room with a flick of his wand and Dumbledore's smile widened.

"Why won't you just let me expel him." Snape whispered, a little bitterly. "He won't be safe here in the Wizarding world, the boy, with what happened last year in the Forbidden Forrest and with Quirrell. Even you have to admit that you had miscalculated with Quirrell."

Dumbledore considered his words in what looked like deep thought. He finally answered in an enlightened tone, "That is why, Severus, we were much more rigorous with our selection of Professors this year-" Snape snorted at that, considering that the newest addition was Gilderoy Lockhart. That reassurance gave him no comfort at all. The vain man was all bark and no bite. An utterly useless fool that was in Hogwarts to increase the size of his fan club rather than to teach. "-Mister Potter will probably be alright." Dumbledore finished.

Snape mouth turned upside down in a deep frown, displeased of Dumbledore's clearly negligent behavior. "Your use of the word "probably" is highly irresponsible, Headmaster." Snape remarked and scowled at him.

Dumbledore merely chuckled and his eyes twinkled mysteriously. "I'm sure you'll keep Mister Potter in check, Severus. I know I can count on you. The boy will stay here." The Headmaster rested a hand on Snape's shoulder, gave it two firm pats, before bidding him a good night and exited the office.

* * *

The school year moved quickly, and with all the recent events, everyone, even the faculty, were a little bit on edge.

Last month, Mrs. Norris was found petrified and the words "The Chamber of Secrets has been opened. Enemies of the heir, beware." had been written on the wall in blood. At the time, to ease the students' minds, Dumbledore had said that it must've been a practical joke, but Snape knew better. Two weeks later, lo and behold, there was another attack and this time on Justin Finch-Fletchley and Nearly Headless Nick.

For whatever reason, Dumbledore decided to name Lockhart as the lead investigator of the case. Lockhart had thrown a lot of flowery words and bragged about his past achievements in similar cases where there were barely any leads, and accepted the role with a flashing smile. But Snape knew, the man had been pussyfooting this whole week, and hadn't done any investigation at all, claiming that he was getting himself both physically and mentally prepared for the role.

With a mysterious threat lurking around like that, even Snape found himself a little distracted as he instructed in his potions class. He had just explained the ingredients, brewing properties, and effects of the Calming Draught. Snape observed his students, first year Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs, the two Houses that he despised most.

Almost all the students finished copying their notes and were looking up at Snape expectantly for the next series of instruction. One ginger-haired girl, however, caught his attention. While everyone else's quills were either at rest in their ink pots or held in their hand, Ginny Weasley still had her head down and furiously writing. In fact, she was so engrossed in her writing that she had no idea that Snape made his way over and that all eyes were on her.

Her potion's partner nudged her in the side and hissed, "Ginny, will you stop writing!"

Ginny glared and her friend but she soon realized that there was a shadow looming over her desk. It was Snape. Ginny squeaked out of fright and frantically shut the little black book that she was writing into.

Snape arched an eyebrow at her and with a bored tone and an equally bored expression on his face, he drawled, "I don't suppose that whatever you were writing was class related?"

Ginny shrank down in her chair and looked down, ashamed. "No sir." Her voice quavered.

"Hm." was all Snape said and he stuck out his hand, palm side up, and silently requested the notebook to have it confiscated.

Ginny looked at the outstretched hand, and bit her lip, as if deciding what best to do out of her limited options. She could either give him the book, or fight with him about it, but the latter would bring her into much deeper trouble. Ginny sighed and reluctantly placed the book in his hand.

"That will be twenty points from Gryffindor. That ought to teach you to pay attention in class."

The Gryffindors groaned.

Snape walked back to the front of the class and placed the little black book on his table top and continued teaching. All Ginny did for the rest of the class was stare at the book, worried that it would disappear if she took her gaze off it.

* * *

At the end of class, Ginny wanted to ask Snape when she would get her diary back, but the Professor had brushed her off and muttered, "not now" as he rushed over to help two Hufflepuffs that spilled their potion all over the floor.

Snape's back was turned towards her, and Ginny hesitantly edged towards Snape's desk. Just as she was about to reach out to get the book, Snape's voice traveled from the back of the dungeon curtly, "Don't even think about it, Miss Weasley. Touch it, and it will be fifty points from Gryffindor."

Ginny snapped her hand back to her chest and her heart was about to burst out from the confines of her ribcage, judging from how fast it was beating. How did he even see her with his back towards her!?

Deciding that there was nothing more that she could do today, unless she wanted to get herself into even more trouble, she frustratedly rushed out of the classroom. In her haste, she accidentally bumped into Draco Malfoy on her way out.

"Watch it, you stupid Weaselette." he spat.

Draco came into the dungeons with the intention of asking his Godfather to change their Occlumency lessons to tomorrow night instead of today, but from the looks of things, he seemed occupied with the first years, so Draco was about to turn away and just slip a note to his Godfather's office.

Just as he was about to turn around, an object on his Godfather's desk caught his eye. It was a little leather-bound black book and it looked very familar to him. It looked like the one that his Father had with him that day at Borgin and Burkes… in fact, Draco was sure of it. It had the same embellished gold corners on the cover and it was made with fine black leather.

What was it doing here in Hogwarts?

With curiosity getting the best of him, Draco eyed his Godfather once before he silently slipped the book into the depths of his robes.

* * *

 ** _A/N: Thanks for reading this installment! This chapter was to satisfy those that are sad about Alan Rickman's passing. Thank you cares1970, mega700201, EmilyWoods, JuliSt, Guest "t", Guest, and ksouza3 for your reviews and those that are concerned about my wellbeing and health. You guys are the best!_**

 ** _To Guest "t": I really love your reviews and your analysis. It helps me get a feel of whether readers are picking up on the little subtle plot ideas that I put in. You definitely got a few of them :)_**

 ** _In regards to the last chapter, these are the main takeaways:_**

 ** _1._** ** _Lucius chooses his words carefully and never really insults Hermione regarding her perceived blood status, but he was still able to appear to the characters as a nasty, self-righteous git._**

 ** _2._** ** _Lucius didn't really decide to put the book into Ginny's cauldron until he heard the sound of the clunk and then was reminded of the Dark Lord when he saw Harry's scar. He knew that the book was one of the items that he had to 'dispose of' from his home (due to the Ministry 'house calls'), but if he had sold it to Borgin and Burkes, the Dark Lord could easily trace it back to him since Borgin wouldn't hesitate to rat him out if he were ever asked. So, he had to do it silently, and the opportunity presented itself. Also, he loved the idea that he could get rid of the dark item anonymously and possibly get the Weasley's in trouble if the Ministry finds it._**

 ** _3._** ** _"…you were ill-advise to chase after a daughter…" is in reference to Chapter Three. Lucius has a personal vendetta against the Weasleys. They were both Pureblood familys and while the Malfoys have all the fame and glory, they were unlucky in the childbirth department while the Weasley's procreate like bunnies. Lucius was bitter as Draco noted._**

 ** _4._** ** _The "[cauldron] felt several ounces heavier," yup, Malfoy slipped the diary into Ginny's cauldron._**

 ** _5._** ** _The hair pulling scene and "Lucius gingerly tucking one dragon-leather gloved fist into his pocket". Lucius was actually the one that pulled a strand of Hermione's hair. What for? Wait and see._**

 ** _6._** ** _Draco can't get anything past his father, "though you can try". Beginning from Chapter Thirteen, they started practicing Occlumency, so yea…Draco literally can't hide anything from Lucius and Snape until he gets better at Occlumency._**

 ** _Anyway, hope you liked this chapter. This will be the first little side deviation from canon. Let me know what you think Draco will do with Tom Riddle's Diary! Please review!_**


	16. Chapter 16

**Chapter Sixteen: Temptations**

With the little black book still hidden inside his robes, Draco made it back to the Slytherin common room and headed straight for his room.

Crabbe and Goyle had looked up and greeted him from their game of arm wrestling, but Draco merely tossed a curt nod at them in acknowledgement. Crabbe and Goyle returned to their game after seeing Draco's less than friendly response. As daft as the two were, they knew that when Draco was 'walking with a purpose' like that, taking long, determined strides, and eyes focused hard and still, it was best not to get in Draco's way, unless they were asking for an earful.

Once inside his room and quickly scanning it to find that all his roommates were out and about, Draco pulled the book out and took a good look at it. He flipped it back and forth in one hand, then traced his fingers over the pebbled leather cover. Turning the book to its side, he ran two fingers along the spine slowly, feeling every inch of the spine. He was expecting an embossed title, but he found none. It was a well-made book, definitely the same one that his father had from Borgin and Burkes.

Draco itched with excitement and was dying inside to see what secrets were written inside.

With a mischievous grin on his face, Draco opened the cover but to his astonishment, there was…nothing. Absolutely nothing. Not even a smidgen of ink marked anywhere on the snow white page. Confused, Draco quickly flipped through the rest of the pages, only to find that they were as blank and as pristine as the first.

 _What?_ W _hy on earth was Father so secretive about a blasted blank journal?_

Draco went over to his desk, pulled out the chair and sat himself down. He rubbed his palm across his face in thought. Then it occurred to him that perhaps the journal was not what it seemed.

 _What if this book was charmed?_

With that thought in mind, Draco rummaged through his drawer and pulled out an ink pot and a quill. With one hand holding down the first page of the book, and the other dipping the nib into the ink to draw the perfect amount of ink, he leaned forward over the pages and wrote, "Slytherin," in elegant script, the first word that popped up in his head.

For a moment, nothing seemed to happen, and right before he was about to scoff at his silly idea, words begin to appear on the page.

 _'Slytherin. Only the best House of the four in Hogwarts. The other three Houses pale in comparison to ours in nobility and cunning wit.'_

Draco smirked at that. _Damn right._

Before Draco could write a response, words floated to the page.

 _'Who are you? Your script is different than my previous owner.'_

Draco frowned at the words and stared. Deciding that he wanted to keep himself anonymous, he scribbled "Who wants to know?"

The mysterious book responded without the hesitation that Draco had. The loopy hand writing formed two words on the page.

 _'Tom Riddle.'_

"What a queer name."

' _That may be, but most people know me by another name._ '

"Oh, and what would that be?"

'W _ho wants to know?_ '

Draco found himself staring at the words on the page for a second time that day. He was thoroughly perplexed. The book appeared to have a certain degree of artificial intelligence that was able to process and respond to dialogue. What kind of magic was this?

The book, 'Tom', seemed to sense his hesitation and continued.

' _You don't need to respond if you don't want to.'_

Draco raised a pale eyebrow.

 _'You know, the previous user of this journal used me as a diary, a confidant, even, and I welcome you to do the same if you'd like. You see, I have no way to the outside world, so there is no fear of me revealing any of your secrets so long as you keep ME a secret. Words on these pages will go blank once you close the cover.'_

"What are you exactly? Is this book connected in some way, and you're actually a live person responding to me?" Draco was a little skeptic at the queer artefact that he managed to stumble upon. It was evidently an object that needed a lot of magic to create, and most likely also had a mysterious backstory, if his Father was so keen on being so secretive about it.

 _'No. I'm merely a little side project created by a very intelligent Hogwarts student. Though you'll see that I am capable of independent thought within the realms of these pages. Like I said, users use me as a diary, but you'll find that I am very knowledgeable. I can teach you many things. Things that you've never even heard of, not even in your wildest dreams.'_

Draco was definitely intrigued at the promises, but it unnerved him that these were coming from an enchanted book. This 'Tom' certainly talked big, but to him, these were nothing more than empty promises, unless Tom had something to show for it.

 _'Are you struggling in any of your classes? I can tutor you.'_

"Thanks for the offer, but no, Hogwarts classes are no match for my brains."

 _'Oh? You're the best in all your classes then?'_

Draco frowned bitterly at the question, and scribbled furiously.

"I'm essentially the best. I'm top two in all of my classes, but with the exception of potions, there's a swotty little Mudblood in my way. Damn her… She only first because she sucks up to the professors."

 _'Interesting… I take it that you don't like this Mudblood.'_

Draco scoffed. "Not just _this_ Mudblood. I hate _all_ Mudbloods, they sully our Wizarding world with their filth."

 _'Oh ho, sound like you, like me, share the same sentiments in regards to these pests. You would do Salazar Slytherin proud if you were to exterminate them."_

"Tch, like I'd care to impress a dead bloke, no matter how extraordinary he was. Besides, I don't have the power to do that."

 _'Like I said before, I can_ _ **teach**_ _you.'_

That struck a chord within Draco. If everything that Tom had beautifully marketed was true, then he could become powerful. He would be recognized by the masses. He would never be second best to Mudblood Granger. Better yet, he wouldn't even have to deal with any Mudblood for that matter. This all seemed so alluring and tantalizing to Draco, and his heart was beating all the more faster just with the mere thought of it.

Well, time to see if Tom could really deliver. Draco wanted to test if Tom could really teach him something. While it was true that he didn't need tutoring for his Hogwarts classes, Occlumency still proved to be a challenge for him. He was actually not looking forward to the Occlumency session tomorrow with Snape. Perhaps Tom could help.

"Do you know Occlumency? That's something that I need help with. Prove to me that you can help me get better at it."

 _'Yes, I know Occlumency. Though I'm more of a skilled Legilimens. I'm surprised. Occlumency is part of the Hogwarts curriculum?'_

"It's not. I'm learning it on the side. It's quite a useful skill to have, so I'm told."

 _'It is indeed. You know, you're quite an interesting one."_

"Draco."

 _'What? Excuse me?'_

"My name is Draco. Draco Malfoy."

That was odd. Draco hadn't intended to reveal his name to Tom, but he brushed the feeling away and didn't think more about it. If Draco was thinking a little more clearly, he would have realized that there was a little voice in his head was telling him that Tom could be trusted.

But who said that the voice could be trusted?

 _'Draco. Draco Malfoy. You will do. I am confident that you will be the one to achieve great things.'_

That night was the first of many nights that Draco slept with the little black book under his pillow, as instructed by Lord Voldemort.

But he didn't know that.

* * *

 ** _A/N: Shh... don't tell Draco! So I should be doing overtime and working right now, but I wrote this chapter instead. :D This chapter was tricky, all the dialogue was technically written in the diary. I kept Tom's dialogue Italicized since when I read it, it helped me imagine the Italicized words appearing on the blank pages, but my head works funny. Thanks for all the support! Love to hear from you, so please send me a review!_**


	17. Chapter 17

**Chapter Seventeen: The Third Attack**

The light creeping through the curtains stirred Draco awake. He rolled over to his stomach and groaned into his pillow. He really should get up, there was Transfiguration that morning, and he had a feeling that McGonagall simply would not let it slide like Snape would if he were to show up late to class.

There was a matter of getting breakfast as well.

A part of him wanted to ditch breakfast altogether and stay snuggled under his duvet for another hour. He could just snack on the sweets that his mother had sent him last week. That sounded delightful. Draco slowly let his eyelids drift almost to a close before he remembered. He did exactly the same thing yesterday, and he actually depleted the last crumb of his stash of sweets. He huffed and thrashed about in sleepy anger before kicking off his sheets. The cold air nipped at his skin which urged him to quickly go to the shared bathroom to take a hot shower and get properly dressed.

The shower did little to wake him up, and Draco yawned all the way down the corridor as he dragged himself to the Great Hall. He blinked hard to chase away the strain behind his eyes.

It was strange… ever since he had started practicing Occlumency with Tom, he noticed that he felt more drained than usual during the day time. He gave it some thought, and the only explanation that he could come up with was that his brain never got a proper rest during these sessions. In fact, always having to be on the defense to block Tom from penetrating his mind was most likely strenuous, even if it was in his sleep. He decided that a nap after his morning class would do the trick and he dismissed the issue.

* * *

Draco reached the Slytherin table and he took a seat between Blaise and Goyle and languidly reached for a piece of toast and slowly buttered it.

"Morning, Draco." Pansy purred from the other side of the table. She was ignorant to Draco's indifference in attitude.

"Morning." Draco grunted without looking up from his toast. He took the second piece of bread and meticulously lined up the two sides together.

He felt a nudge to his side. It was Blaise and he seemed awfully excited for a Wednesday morning. Blaise leaned over to him.

"Hey mate, did you hear what happened last night?"

Draco took a bite of his toast and shook his head.

"There was another attack!"

That caught Draco's attention and he stopped mid-chew. His eyes widened in question and Blaise caught the look.

"It was Colin Creevey, the Muggle-born first-year from Gryffindor. Oh, look. Dumbledore is at the podium. I'm sure he's going to talk about it. This is going to be good."

Blaise settled back in the seat of his bench, prepared to soak up every detail. It was then that Draco remembered that he was chewing, and so he continued working on his bite of toast, but it tasted of cardboard, the texture rough against his tongue. He had an unsettling feeling about this in the pit of his stomach, but he couldn't pinpoint the cause of his uneasiness.

* * *

Dumbledore addressed the attack in an anticlimactic manner, to Blaise's disappointment. Blaise was expecting at least some juicy detail about the attack, but Dumbledore merely glided over topic, addressing it as delicately as possible. Draco thought that it was a smart move. The students were already uneasy, and too much of the gory details would drive the students in an uproar.

This new attack certainly drew fear and it resonated with all the Muggle-borns. With this third attack, it was, without a doubt, a deliberate attack against their kind. Nothing Dumbledore can say or do could possibly dissuade them otherwise.

Colin Creevey... Not a loss really, in Draco's opinion. In fact, he quite despised the mousy haired boy so he was somewhat pleased that Creevey was put out of commission, even if it's just for a short time.

The Creevey boy was self-proclaimed to be blasted Potter's number one fan, and since the beginning of school, he had taken upon himself to be Potter's personal paparazzi. It annoyed Draco every time he saw the blinding flashes out of the corner of his eyes during meals or in the hallway. It bothered him so much that he wrote to his father, who was the current chairman of the Hogwarts Board of Governors, that cameras had ought to be confiscated and banned from Hogwarts. Draco was sure that a decree would have been issued long ago if it weren't for these attacks. The severity of the students being attacked certainly overshadowed his little personal vendetta against the snapshot device.

Draco pulled himself out of his thoughts. Dumbledore just announced that the process of producing the Mandrake Restorative Draught was already well underway, and that the individuals (one cat, two boys, one dead ghost) that were petrified will soon be returned to their original, lively state.

The Great Hall boomed with cheering and clapping after the announcement was made, but Draco sat there, with his cheek resting on his propped up fist, looking decidedly unimpressed.

Draco smirked and saw the ruse for what it was. This was merely a last ditch effort in attempt to placate the masses. The old man was running out of ideas. His Father already told him that any more of these attacks, and Dumbledore would surely be fired from Hogwarts.

Draco looked around him. Simpletons. They were all fools, playing right into Dumbledore's hands.

Big deal, there was a _cure_ , but the professors haven't announced that the culprit was detained. To makes matters more unsettling, they don't even know _who_ the culprit was nor their intentions, besides that the perpetrator was after the 'enemies of the heir'. For the time being, that seemed to mean Mudbloods, an annoying cat, and the useless Gryffindor ghost that was quite full of himself.

He scanned his eyes across the room. Up at the head table, the only professors that weren't clapping were Snape and Trelawney. His Godfather looked equally unimpressed and wore a frown while Trelawney was in a daze and waving her arms in the air with a knife in each hand before dropping them to the ground. Draco scoffed and shook his head. She was ridiculous and a shame to the Hogwarts name. Perhaps that was her poor rendition of clapping.

Draco dismissed the table and glanced as his own and then to the other tables. Many of the Slytherins at his table continued on eating, as well as a few Ravenclaws that Draco recognized as Purebloods. Hufflepuffs were following with the crowd, but it was the Gryffindors that were most enthusiastic of all. Grey eyes landed on the girl with the mass of riotous curls. That's odd, Granger was clapping, but certainly with less vigor that the rest of her housemates, and she wore a perplexed and somewhat worried expression. She looked as if she was thinking hard on something. Something that made her uneasy.

Draco chuckled to himself. She probably was worried that she was next.

* * *

With the most recent attack on Colin Creevey, students had to be accompanied to classes either by a Professor, a Head, or a Prefect as a safety precaution. This made the Professors extra busy escorting students constantly in the halls. Because of this, that night Snape pulled Draco into a dark corridor and suggested to Draco that they cancel their Occulmency sessions for the time being, just for Draco's own safety. Their sessions most always ran until the late hours of the evening, and both attacks had occurred at night.

Draco was skeptical about this safety precaution. With arms crossed over his chest and a haughty expression on his face, he pointed out, "I'm not exactly at risk for these attacks though, Uncle Sev. Obviously they're after Mudbloods and-"

He was cut off by Snape's hiss.

"Don't - " His Godfather interrupted angrily, and darted his eyes to scan the hallway to make sure they were alone, "let others hear you comment so casually about these attacks. People will start thinking that you're involved, and then, neither I myself nor your Father would be able to get you out of _that_ mess without you spending a few days in Azkaban confinement."

Draco shrugged. "But it's _not_ me." he bit back, brows furrowed.

"I know." Snape said. When he spoke again, his heated tone was considerably reduced and he continued in a hushed tone, "But this case has happened before. And that time, the suspect was guilty until proven innocent. I suspect the trial would be even worse this time if they can latch onto a scapegoat."

That surprised Draco and his brain quickly processed Snape's words. "You mean to say that the Chamber had been opened before?"

"I've said too much." Snape said with a turn. "Come along, Draco. I'll escort you back to the Common Room."

* * *

For weeks, Draco slept as instructed with the diary under his pillow.

Tom Riddle was able to enter his dreams every night to tutor him, and surprisingly, Tom had kept true to his word. The skills that would normally take a month of practicing all of a sudden only took a mere week, and it was all done in his sleep!

Draco was beyond thrilled. He cared very little about the mechanics behind how the magic worked, and was just please that he was excelling in Occulmency at a rapid rate with Tom's help. The next time he practiced with Snape, whenever that may be, Draco was certain that he would be impressed.

Draco reveled in it. It became an obsession for him to make sure that he met up with Tom every night. Draco was so sucked in that he was oblivious to how the sessions were taking a toll on his body and sanity.

The changes, slowly but surely, were setting in as the year progressed to mid-December. They were subtle, gradual changes and to Draco, who was used to seeing his reflection from the mirror every day, these changes were not apparent to him. His fellow Slytherin friends also failed to catch the changes, since they saw him on a day to day basis.

It was only when he almost collided with the Gryffindor Princess during passing period that he had heard about his changed appearance for the first time.

* * *

"Oh my gosh!" Hermione cried out and dropped the books that she was carrying. Her heart practically leapt out of her chest when she almost ran face first into someone just as she rounded the corner to make her way to Moaning Myrtle's bathroom on the first floor.

Hermione was quick to apologize. "I'm so sor-". She trailed off mid-sentence when she looked up and caught a flash of platinum blond hair. The person she almost collided with was none other than Draco Malfoy.

"Oh, it's just you." she said in a matter of fact tone and folded her arms together. When he took a step closer to the light and Hermione saw his face clearly, she blurted out what was on her mind. "You look awful…"

Draco quirked an eyebrow a scowled, "Yes, it's me. So not only do I not get my rightful apology, but I'm greeted with an insult? It would seem, your Mudblood doctrines lack standard curtesy. It's no wonder that you're inferior."

Hermione frowned and words spewed from her mouth to quickly defend herself. "I'm just stating the obvious, Malfoy. Your eyes are bloodshot and the bags make you look like you haven't slept a wink in days. Your skin looks more ghastly pale than it usually is, your hair is unkept, not to mention the well-tailored clothes that your rich daddy buys you are hanging off you like a cheap clothing rack. Need I say more?" Her hands were on her hips. "Oh, and last I checked, this Hogwarts here does not have any one way corridors. If there was any fault to be had, it would be mutual. If I owe you an apology, then where's mine?"

Draco was clearly overwhelmed by the verbal slew of words. His mouth hung open but no sound came out.

"I thought so." Hermione said and gave him her nastiest sneer that she could muster. She bent down to pick up her books and pushed past him with a grin of satisfaction. "See, no apology needed."

Draco was fuming inside…that little Mudblood had the nerve… Out of the heat of the moment, Draco spun around on his heels and growled, "You'll be next, Mudblood."

There was no mistaking what his words implied. Hermione stopped in her tracks and her eyes widened.

 _Oh my gosh. Harry was right, Malfoy could really be the Heir of Slytherin!_

Hermione gathered herself and quickened her step to check on her almost mature polyjuice potion. She has to get this potion correct. They need it and they need it now.

* * *

 ** _A/N: Silly Draco, there are no shortcuts in life. Not without a cost anyway. Thanks so much to all the reviewers (JuliSt, mega700201, "t", SolemnlySwearToManageMischief, Guests, Grovek26, SmileSimplify, sofisamu, and Vaneesa85). Suffered from stomach flu this week, so this Chapter is extra long as an apology._**

 ** _I have a feeling that you all are waiting for more HG x DM interaction. I'll try to reel in more scenes with the kids rather than adults, though that prompts me to ask: Do you guys like reading the scenes with the adults (SS, LM, NM)? Later, on I'll add more to the mix of course (Voldie, BL, SB, RL), but can be limited to what is essential to the plot. Take care, my readers._**


	18. Chapter 18

**Chapter Eighteen: The Sleeping Cat**

Perhaps one of the redeeming qualities of attending a school that was an ancient castle was that it was quite easy to sneak around the corridors after nightfall without getting caught. The eerie glow of the enchanted fire lamps created shadows that danced along to every flicker of the fire. Hidden in these shadow and with his body hugging the wall was Draco. He was alert and he kept his ears opened for the sound of anyone approaching. Every step was carefully placed to ensure the softest of footfalls. Slow and steady, he maneuvered his way from the warm cavity of his bed to the infirmary.

In the far back recess of his mind, Draco wondered if he should be at all nervous walking about the castle alone in the middle of the night. After all, it was well known that the monster only made his attacks at night, but Draco was still willing to bet that the monster was not going after Purebloods wizards like himself. The odds were in his favor judging from the casualties last month.

Though, what would Snape say if he found out? Dear Merlin, he can't let his Godfather know, the man would be livid. And then, even worse, his father would certainly know about his late night excursions as well. But these were the risks that he needed to take in order to gain back some sanity.

Draco just couldn't take it anymore. He couldn't stand another night with Tom entering his mind. Things were getting stranger and stranger. There were nights where they would practice Occulmency as usual, and he would wake up feeling drained. Then there were nights where he was startled awake from the cold, and he would find himself on the first floor, bare-footed and with his teeth chattering, his pajamas not doing enough to shield him from the cold corridors. Was he always a sleep walker? That can't be it, Draco was sure it had to do with Tom and the diary.

Over his interactions with Tom over the past two months, it was clear to Draco that Tom was no ordinary teenager. In fact, Tom was nothing short of a genius and Draco was getting wary of him. The Slytherin inside of Draco seemed to sense that even though Tom was a fellow Slytherin, he was not to be trusted. If he were to let his guard down around Tom, he might just be eaten alive, very much like how Kingsnakes would eat other snakes when held in captivity in the same confined space. The diary was Tom's glass cage and Draco was a little snake lured into it.

He needed to get out.

The more Draco interacted with Tom, the more he felt as if his mind was clouded, and the clear control that he normally had over himself was slowly inebriated by Tom's magic and allure. It caused him to feel dazed, and at its worst, Draco felt as if his subconscious was shut inside a small compartment in his mind and that another force was controlling his every movement and speech.

It _HAD_ to be Tom, and it was paramount for Draco to put an end to it.

First, he needed anything to sever the interaction with Tom, long enough so that he was able to gather his wits again. Since Tom could enter his dreams, Draco figured that the best solution was to _NOT_ dream. Of course, keeping himself awake all night would be unsustainable, he was no fool, so the best option was to nab some Dreamless Sleep Potion. With most of Hogwarts' staff and students off for the holidays, the best place to get the key to a good night's rest would be from the stores of the infirmary.

Draco hearted pounded inside his chest as he gingerly edged the infirmary doors opened, just enough so that he could slip through. The doors squeaked at the hinge and Draco swallowed the hard lump in his throat. He stood still as a statue at the door and strained his ears to pick up any sound of movement. He let out a sigh of relief when there were none. In fact, when he roved his eyes over the line of cots, many of them were unoccupied and from what he could tell, there was only one cot that was being used with curtains half drawn. Of course, there were also those that were petrified lined up at the back of the room. He didn't need to worry about them.

Feeling that he could lower his defenses now, Draco rested his tense shoulders and strolled over to the medicine cabinet that stood in the middle of the infirmary. When he got to the cabinet, he peered past the glass and scanned through rows and rows of neatly labeled potions until he found the one that we was looking for. Dreamless Sleep Potion.

Draco pulled out his wand and muttered _alhomora_ and the lock easily clicked opened. Reaching into his robes, he took out a flask and pulled off the cork with his teeth. He examined the line of dreamless sleeping potion and smirked. Looks like Pomphrey had just restocked her batch during the holidays and there were seven bottles all together.

Pomphrey, unlike Snape, was the type that wouldn't notice if a small amount of the potion went missing. Snape on the other hand, would realize someone took from his stores even if one milliliter of potion was gone. With a steady hand, Draco tipped several servings of potion into his flask out of each bottle. Once Draco was finished, he quickly realigned the potions back into its rightful place and he locked the cabinet door behind him, just like how he found it. He carefully pocketed the flask and wore a triumphant look on his face. That should last him a long while.

With his mission completed, Draco was walking back towards the entrance when he accidently bumped into a cot out of his carelessness. The cot made a scraping sound against the tiled floor and it reverberated across the empty room.

"Shit" he hissed under his breath and hid himself behind one of the curtains to assess the damage.

"Mmm," came a sleepy female voice. There was some shuffling coming from the direction of the single occupied cot. It sounded to Draco as if the person was readjusting themselves on the bed and once that was done, the air stilled again.

Draco poked his head out from his hiding place and dared a peak over towards the occupied cot. His eyes widened at what he saw.

 _Is that… a tail sticking out behind the curtains? What in the name of Salazar Slytherin is that?_

The curiosity peaked his interest and he couldn't resist the urge to see who, or what, the creature was, laying on that cot.

Draco approached the figure with as much care as he did when he snuck into the infirmary. He peered into the space where the half drawn curtains parted.

His eyes widened in surprise.

It was Mudblood Granger, but in a way that he's never seen her before. How she turned herself into a cat, he did not know, but there she was, laying there with some cat features amongst her normal human ones.

Granger must have been full cat at some point, and was now transforming back to her human form. There was a lot of residual fur around her, all from the shedding from the looks of it. The cat hair surrounding her made it look like she was sleeping in a comfortable nest that cocooned her from the slight chill in the air. She had cat ears and whiskers amongst her normal face, and her tail protruded out from underneath the blanket.

Draco didn't know how long he was standing there, staring, but he froze when her eyelids fluttered. Draco didn't dare move. Any sudden movement might alert Granger and then he would be in deep trouble. Granger's eyes opened a tiny crack, but Draco was relieve to see that her eyes were veiled by a sleepy haze. Her eyelids quickly fluttered shut again and her breathing slowed back down to how it was before he had disturbed her.

That was such a close call.

Without another thought, Draco hurried himself out of the infirmary to rush back to the comforts of his Slytherin den.

* * *

 ** _A/N: Sorry for the long wait, still plagued by illness and suffering from working overtime. Hope this chappy was satisfying. Thank you to JuliSt, Guest "T", Grovek26, Guest "Gal", mega700201, Vaneesa85, Santana Starr for your review + all the follows and favorites. There will be several 'attacks' in the next chapter, do look forward to it!_**

 ** _Please continue to review, they make my day! Take care._**


	19. Chapter 19

**Chapter Nineteen: The Calm Before...**

Blaise nudged Theo in his side to get his attention. Theo, who was enjoying his porridge looked over at Blaise with a slight scowl to show his annoyance and rubbed the sore spot on his rib. Blaise kept his voice low and whispered to the boy sitting next to him.

"He's staring out the window again."

Though Blaise couldn't see Theo's face, he knew that Theo was rolling his eyes by the loll of his head to one side and his exasperated sigh.

"I'm telling you, he's just caught up over some girl. He's probably daydreaming about her." Theo said with a wave of his hand, dismissing Blaise's apparent concern over Draco.

"Yea, but he's never been at it for this long, whoever the girl is, must be a looker. Maybe he's crushing on that Ravenclaw third year he talked about last week."

"Bollocks!" A shrill voice hissed. They knew the voice from anywhere, not everyone could achieve that high pitched frequency during normal speech.

Parkinson. Delightful. Just the perfect person to spice up their otherwise routine morning.

The two boys looked towards Pansy and they schooled their features, and mentally prepared themselves for whatever outburst she was going to throw their way.

Blaise raised an eyebrow. "Eavesdropping, Pans? Classy."

"I'm doing no such thing." Pansy crossed her arm over her chest. Her face pulled into an unattractive one, showing distaste at Blaise for even making such an accusation. "If the conversation concerns Draco, it concerns me too. You better remember that. I'll have you know that my Drakey is just preoccupied with schoolwork and other important things that his father is having him work on. Besides, why would he think about other girls when he has me?"

Blaise had quite a few responses to that question, more than he could count with one hand, but he felt that it was best that he didn't reply to her. Parkinson would not like any of his reasons anyway.

Theo ate another spoonful of his porridge and pulled it out of his mouth with a pop. He pointed the cleaned up spoon at Pansy, then at Draco, and back to Pansy. "Yours? So possessive, Parkinson… you make it sound like you two are betrothed to one another."

"Well, it's only a matter of time." Pansy snapped. With a triumphant smile, she slipped her arm around affectionately Draco's and leaned her head against his arm. That seemed to break Draco out of his trance. Draco looked down at their interlinked arms and immediately unhooked it.

"Oh, hell no. Absolutely not!" he said and stood up and grabbed his belongings. Pansy looked wounded and Draco soften his grimace. "Sorry, Pans. I don't mean that. It's just-," he sighed, "-I don't have an appetite today, I'll see you guys back at the common room." Draco turned and walked out of the Great Hall with Pansy calling out to him that she will bring him a snack later in case he gets hungry.

"At least he didn't say he _lost_ his appetite." Blaise sniggered to Theo.

"Hey, I heard that!"

"Tsk tsk, what did I tell you about eavesdropping, Pans?"

"Ugruah!"

* * *

During his solitary walk back to the Slytherin Common Room, Draco continued his thoughts about a certain kitty cat that he stumbled upon during the Christmas Holiday.

Unbeknownst to his friends, all this time in the Great Hall, he was purposefully staring blankly out that particular window because that specific spot would give him the perfect peripheral vision of Mudblood Granger and her two lapdogs.

Draco was sure that Potter and the 'Brain', and their stupid joke of a sidekick was plotting something against him, perhaps trying to frame him as the Heir of Slytherin.

While the title was a fitting one, and to be honest, one that Draco wouldn't mind having if circumstances were different, there was no way in hell that he would be caught in the middle of this mess. His Uncle Severus and Father had already warned him multiple times that any well-founded suspicion that you were involved with the events of the Chamber of Secrets would earn you a one way ticket to Azkaban, and the ticket out would have to be earned after arduous trials of proving your innocence. Azkaban does not sound like a good place to spend any amount of time at, and his mother certainly told him about the effects it had on the sanity of her sister, his Aunt Bella.

 _No, thank you._

His mind strayed back to the scene at the infirmary and he willed himself to try not to focus on the image of the humanoid cat lying on the cot that night, for he was wary of the one train of thought resurfacing to his mind- that the Granger that he saw that night was kind of cute, and perhaps borderline attractive, and not the ugly beaver that he claimed her to be.

And of course, trying not to think about something was the same as thinking about it.

In his mind's eye, Draco was once again brought back to the scene where Granger was sleeping serenely with her molted fur surrounding her like a nest. He was used to seeing her with her guard up when he was around, and occasionally a look of contempt after their banters. But that night, she was a different person… so peaceful and dare he say, angelic? Not to mention, her tail which was poking out from underneath the sheets looked soft, and Draco had half the mind then to reach out and stroke it…

 _God damn Salazar, save his soul._

The blond halted in his tracks right in front of the stone wall leading to the Slytherin Common Room.

"Bloody hell," he growled. His hand clenched into a tight fist and Draco slammed it against the wall. It had hurt, and the pain brought some clarity back to his head. He really need to practice Occlumency again, he's definitely losing his touch.

" _Pureblood._ " he said in a steely tone.

The password was accepted and the wall retreated back and a set of stone steps appeared leading down to the Slytherin Dungeon.

That's right, he was a Pureblood and Granger was a filthy Mudblood. Mudbloods don't deserve his time and consideration lest it tainted his beautiful mind.

Draco took deep, calming breath as he crossed the length of the Common Room. With his mind cleared, Draco lowered himself into a comfortable position on the couch in front of the fireplace and concentrated on the circumstances that would have brought Granger to that state. The fact that she was molting was curious, it would mean that she was stuck as a cat for some time. If it was a Transfiguration spell gone awry, any Professor, besides the useless and ditzy Lockhart, should be able to reverse it. Likewise, a curse would most likely have a counter curse. For her to be seemingly stuck in a semi-permanent state, it must have been the workings of a potion? Any blotched attempt at a potion would cause more lasting effects on the drinker.

But why would Granger turn herself into a cat? That was the part that Draco couldn't find a good explanation for, though it very well may be that Granger was just trying to brew potions that were too hard for her to get ahead of the curriculum. Draco scowled. The more he thought about it, the more plausible the explanation was. Stupid teacher's pet... not that it would ever work on Snape. A smirk crept to his lips.

Draco was still wary though. The chain of events that occurred shortly before and during Christmas Holidays were all too peculiar to be mere coincidences. There was Tom Riddle and the diary, Granger being a cat, and Potter trying to get him into trouble by accusing him of being the Heir of Slytherin. Merlin's sake, even Crabbe and Goyle had the audacity to ask him whether he was the Heir! Those fools.

But it has been four full months since the last attack, so Draco had every right to be on edge. It certainly seemed like they were riding out the calm before a deadly storm.

* * *

Their morning lesson was Potions with the Gryffindors. Draco sat himself between Blaise and Theo on the bench and silently hoped that the Gryffindors would do something stupid and lose house points.

Snape strolled in and the dungeon doors closed behind him with a thud. 'Polyjuice Potion,' Snape wrote on the board and underscored it.

Draco's eyebrow raised when Hermione's hand shot up in records speed. She looked jittery and was shifting awkwardly in her seat. Snape clearly saw her raised hand, but decided to ignore it and turned back to face the chalkboard.

"But Professor Snape," Hermione chirped, sounding timid and hesitant, "Polyjuice Potion is not in our curriculum…"

Snape whipped around and his cold eyes bore onto the girl that dared speak out of turn. There was a long silence before Snape drawled, "Miss Granger, let me ask you this, what do _you_ know about the curriculum? Do you set the curriculum?"

Hermione shook her head and slowly put her hand down.

Snape wrath continued. "I'll have you know that the curriculum is fluid and is under the discretion of the _Professor_ to change and adjust at any time. I believe that any opportunity to learn something new should be part of the curriculum. Are you so clever that you already know how to brew a Polyjuice Potion? If that's the case, I invite you to come teach the class a thing or two."

Hermione bit her lip and she looked as if she was about to cry.

Snape shrugged. "I thought not." He turned back towards the chalkboard and continued writing. "That will be twenty points from Gryffindor for disrupting my class yet again, Miss Granger."

The Gryffindors in the class groaned while the Slytherins sniggered to themselves. Harry patted Hermione's back to console his friend. "It's okay," he whispered "Don't let him get to you, Hermione. We know you're brilliant."

Hermione nodded and kept her head down low.

"Polyjuice Potion is a very advanced potion due to its complexities and nuances in the brewing process. I have to say that I've seen even adult witches and wizards struggling to produce an accurate brew, but then again, the art of potion making is more than just following instructions on a page, it requires immense talent that most, simply, lack."

Snape paced across the length of the dungeon.

"Brewed correctly, it is a miraculous potion that allows the drinker to assume the form of someone else temporarily, unless another dosage is taken before the transformation wears off. Once the potion is complete, a final ingredient needs to be added to activate the potion. All it takes is an addition of something of the person that you want to turn into. I've seen effects of the Potion lasting from anywhere between minutes to several hours, with the best Potions lasting for the majority of the day. The latter potions, are hard to come by, and even if you chance to come upon it, the brewer will not likely part with the brew without a hefty sum of galleons."

"Professor?" Draco asked when Snape paused.

The Golden Trio looked over towards Malfoy and caught the bemused expression on his face. They looked uneasy at each other and found a growing feeling of dread in the pit of their stomach.

"So the potion can turn you into humans, but what out other things, like animals?"

"That is a very good question, Mr. Malfoy." Snape grinned at his protégé. "The Polyjuice Potion, unfortunately, cannot be used to take on an animal form nor any creature for that matter. The target must be a full human."

"But what happens if one does try to change into an animal?"

Snape smirked. "Then the fool will be stuck as the animal and another potion will need to be consumed to start the reversal process. The change will not reverse automatically, and even then, the person will need to wait out all the effects of the change back to being human again. Splendid questions, Mr. Malfoy. Take ten points for Slytherin."

The Gryffindors groaned again.

Harry gulped and Ron whispered with a panicked tone, "Oh no, you reckon he knows?"

"Don't be silly…" Hermione started, but suddenly a memory flashed across her mind. She remembered that there was one night at the infirmary where she had an odd dream about Malfoy showing up at her bedside...

Hermione stole a glace over to Malfoy and immediately sucked in her breath.

Malfoy was looking right at her with a triumphant smirk. Their eyes met, and Malfoy mouthed a single word over to her.

 _"Meow~"_

 _Oh shit. This can't be happening. He knows._

* * *

At the end of the class, Snape held Draco back. Out of the corner of his eye, Draco saw the Golden Trio rush out of the dungeon after a backwards glance at him. What in Merlin's beard are they up to now?

"Yes, Professor?"

The dungeon was empty except for the two of them.

Snape sighed and said in a low voice, "Your father wants us to start the lessons again. There hasn't been any attacks as of late, and we're only wasting time. Let's resume the lessons tonight. I trust you've been practicing?"

"Umm… yea?" Draco answered nervously. He immediately regretted not sounding more confident, and he definitely shouldn't have ended the sentence with the slight intonation of a question.

Snape's eyes shot up and he frowned, "Well, we'll see if you took a step backwards from your training tonight. Try not to disappoint me too much, Draco."

Draco swallowed the lump in his throat. Not trusting his voice, he replied with a firm nod and quickly left the dungeon.

On his way back, Draco's mind was swarming with thoughts. He was borderline panicking.

 _I've got no time… absolutely no time at all to practice. Uncle Sev will see into my mind for sure. I can't let him see my memories of the Diary, of Tom Riddle, of me stealing Dreamless Sleep Potion, and of what happened at the infirmary and… and… these feelings that I can't even explain._

Then a little voice spoke in his mind.

 ** _Why not ask Tom for help?_** **_Tom will surely be able to help you like he has before…_**

The little voice's idea was like a beacon of light in the darkness of his mind, and Draco grabbed onto it like it was the only chance that he had to get himself out of this mess.

Draco quickly went back to the Slytherin Common Room and ran down the stairs to his shared room. He grabbed the diary that was locked inside his trunk and threw on his black cloak. He dropped a quill and an inkwell into his robes and he set off to find a place without prying eyes. Getting outside of the Castle would be best, there were so many students milling about. Draco held the diary protectively in front of his chest and he stormed out of the Common Room.

He was walking with such determination and purpose that he was bumping into people in his haste. Draco was vaguely aware that he knocked over a tiny first year girl as he stormed out of the Castle, but he paid no mind and didn't bother to apologize. Malfoys didn't need to apologize.

Once outside the Castle, Draco found a secluded spot out by the Great Lake and he pulled out his quill and wrote a message to Tom.

 _'Tom, it's Draco. I need your help.'_

Tom responded to his call immediately, and was very understanding, to Draco's relief.

Draco ended up practicing Occulmency with Tom until almost supper time, and Draco felt as if he had to literally drag his whole body back to the Castle, one slow step at a time. He hadn't eaten a morsel the whole day, and he had forgotten how grueling the sessions with Tom were.

Draco just hoped that he could get some energy back after an early meal. He was famished.

* * *

Supper did prove to be helpful, and Draco felt much better after the hearty meal. When the evening post came, a barn owl dropped in front of Draco and there was a small roll of parchment tied to its feet.

Draco pulled the note from the creature's talons and fed it some leftover bits from his plate. The owl happily hooted and then flew back out towards the Owlery. Draco unrolled the parchment and stared at the strange message.

 _'This is Tom Riddle and you have something of mine. Meet me by the staircase on the first floor corridor at six o' clock to return what is mine.'_

 _Tom? The real Tom Riddle is here in Hogwarts and he's here to collect... the diary?_

Draco looked at the clock on the wall. It was ten to six, he didn't have much time. Draco picked up his belongings and wished his friends that just sat down a good meal.

Most of the students had just gone to the Great Hall for dinner, so the hallways were quite empty.

When Draco arrived at the staircase, it was dark, and there seemed to be no one there. Draco tucked the diary under his arm so that he could quickly read the note again to confirm the time. It was six o'clock, no mistake about it. He then crumpled the parchment in his hand and let the ball of parchment fall to the ground. Draco pulled out his wand.

 _"Incendio."_ he whispered.

The parchment lit up in flames and the light from the small blaze made Draco realize that there were words written on the wall behind the staircase…

Before he had a chance to take a good look at the text, the small parchment was reduced to ashes and the flame went out. Draco squinted in the dark and realized the words were written in red… it was blood.

 _'Those who dare search for me,_

 _will meet the same fate.'_

Draco's eyes widened and a blood chilling scream echoed through the halls. But before he could react, he felt a blow to his head and he blacked out and fell to the floor, blood spilling from a gash in his head.

* * *

 ** _A/N: Hope this was worth the wait!_**

 ** _Thank you, JuliSt, LadyHermioneMalfoy1, mega700201, SmileSimplify, rexjdk, Grovek26, Vanessa85, and Guest "t" for your reviews and to those that added this story to their alert/favorite._**

 ** _Next chapter will conclude book 2 and we will move on to book 3 for chapter twenty-one. Let me know what scenes you like from book 3 and be excited to find out whether it makes it into this fic!_**

 ** _Take care!_**


	20. Chapter 20

**Chapter Twenty: …The Storm**

Madam Pomfrey thought herself unfortunate to be the one to bear the brunt of Lucius Malfoy's wrath.

Where was Dumbledore when one needed him most? Dumbledore's voice of reason would most likely fizzle out before it reached Malfoy's ears, but the old man certainly would take this verbal abuse much better than she could. Besides, she was hired to be a healer, not someone to endure the onslaught from yelling parents.

She stole a glance at the potion master next to her. Her colleague, Severus Snape was also present in the infirmary, and the three of them were standing beside the cot where the young Draco Malfoy laid.

The boy looked even paler than usual, with all color drained from his face due to his recent blood loss. There were bandages around his head and the boy was tucked under the standard issued hospital blanket (to Lucius' utter dismay). Pomfrey wished that Snape would help her out of this bind in some way, but Merlin knows the two men were like brothers from the same snake pit. Severus stood rigid in his spot and didn't seem to care to help her, and just let Lucius vent out his anger.

"I'll have this damn school _closed!_ " Lucius bellowed. Pomfrey lost count of how many times the man had threatened to close the school already. "These attacks are unacceptable, my son almost _died_ while Dumbledore was enjoying his bloody chocolate pudding at dinner-"

"Your son is hurt, yes, but to say he almost died is a little bit of an overstatement-" Madam Pomphrey interjected gently with a frown. Though, that seemed to be the wrong thing to say. Lucius eye's flashed and his nose flared. Pomfrey swallowed the lump in her throat nervously.

"His skull was bloody _cracked opened_ and he is still unconscious with a _concussion_ ," Lucius gritted out dangerously, "You can't even force feed him the proper dosage of Blood Replenishing Potion. Don't you dare give me that ' _oh, nothing a little draught can't fix_ ' attitude, or I will promise you just as much pain as my son is going through right now even if-"

Snape held his palm out, stopping Lucius, before he made more threats that could get him in trouble with the Ministry. "Lucius, for Salazar's sake, stop terrorizing Poppy. You're letting your rage speak for you." He warned. To Pomfrey, he said, "I know that you understand this and won't take any offense, Poppy. Good."

Pomfrey looked as if she begged to differ, but she just 'harrumphed' and crossed her arms over her chest. "Well, now that you both have seen young Mr. Malfoy, I will have to ask you both to leave so that my patient can get some rest. I won't be able to administer any other potions until he comes to his senses. I will assure you one more time that the boy is out of any real danger, Mr. Malfoy."

Lucius looked as if he was about to vehemently object, but Snape nodded and curtly replied, "I understand. Come, Lucius, let us discuss this in my office."

* * *

Once Snape lead Lucius into his office, he closed and locked the door and pushed a glass of Firewhiskey into the man's hands. He looked like he needed one. Lucius knocked the drink back with one fluid motion and dropped his fist, glass in hand, loudly onto the table.

"No real danger," He scoffed, clearly still angry at Pomfrey for downplaying the severity of the situation. "Everybody in this school is in danger with the monster still lurking around. Hell, it's even attacking Purebloods now."

Snape poured himself a drink after refilling Lucius' empty glass. He seated himself across the table from his long-time friend.

"It could have been worse, Lucius. If Miss Weasley hadn't found him when she did, Draco wouldn't just be laying there recovering on that cot. There would be a white sheet over him as well."

"You're not helping." Lucius said with a deep sigh. Then he spat angrily, "Why did it have to be the Weasley girl that found him? I hate to be indebted to the Weasleys. It leaves such a bad taste in my mouth."

"Let it go, Lucius. Better that than losing your only son. Besides, what's more important is to understand why Draco was attacked. Before this attack, all of the attacks were on Muggleborns. Not to mention, they were all petrified, which makes this case ever more mysterious. Draco was attacked but he suffered a blow to the head and was left there to presumably bleed to death and die. Why wasn't he petrified like the other victims?"

Lucius decided that Snape was right. He needed to push his rage aside to figure out why Draco was made a target. He rubbed his chin thoughtfully. Was his son merely in the wrong place at the wrong time? He turned to ask Snape, "Weren't most people going to the Great Hall for dinner? What was he doing heading out of the Great Hall?"

"His housemates said that he had an early supper. Draco finish eating and was just leaving as they sat down." Snape looked regretfully at Lucius. "I feel as if I need to take some responsibility for this as well. I had scheduled with Draco to resume our Occlumency tonight. He might have been going back to the Common Room to prepare for his training."

Lucius shook his head. The man looked so solemn and Lucius knew that he was surely blaming himself. But, he couldn't possibly blame Severus for what happened to Draco. The man cared for Draco as if the boy were his own son.

"That's only one theory as to why Draco had an early supper." Lucius said finally. There was a paused before he continued, "Didn't you say that there was something written on the wall when the Weasley girl found him?"

"Yes. _'Those who dare search for me, will meet the same fate.'_ It was written in blood and seems to imply that Draco went searching for the Heir of Slytherin."

"Do you think Draco would be stupid enough to go searching for the Heir of Slytherin?"

"After all the warnings we had given him to stay away from anything that had to do with the Heir of Slytherin? No. I don't think he would." Severus replied firmly.

"See, something is not adding up." Lucius mutter and slumped into his chair. His frown deepened and creases formed on his forehead.

"He could be tricked." Snape supplied. Lucius looked up and the man elaborated. "I wouldn't put it past Draco to sit still if, say Potter, egged him on to search for the Heir."

"Potter? As in _the_ Harry Potter?"

Snape nodded. "Potter has been convinced that Draco is the Heir of Slytherin based on my observations. At least this should shut that stupid boy up."

"Another reason to add to my long list of why I dislike that boy." Lucius muttered.

After a long silence, Snape spoke. "It's getting late, Lucius. You should head back to the Manor and assure Narcissa that Draco will be okay. I'm sure she's worried sick."

Lucius nodded, but didn't get up from his chair. He stared blankly past Snape, clearly still stunned that Draco was attacked and as a father, he couldn't do anything to protect him.

"I'll visit Draco frequently until he's awake." Snape murmured reassuringly. He stood up and placed a hand onto Lucius' shoulder to comfort him. "We might find out the truth once Draco is awake."

The blond man sighed and heaved himself off the chair. The worry and stress made him look as if he hadn't slept in days. "Thank you, old friend. Please owl me each time after you see him."

"I will."

As Severus escorted him out, Lucius realized that this was the worst feeling in the world, feeling so helpless and unable to do anything for his child.

* * *

It took a full week for Draco's body to slowly recover on his own since Pomfrey was unable to get him to drink any potions to speed up the recovery process. When his fingers twitched and his eyes finally fluttered open, Pomfrey's wards alerted her and she rushed over immediately.

"Dear Merlin! You're finally awake!" She quickly waved her wand over Draco to perform a diagnostic check. Once that was finished, she hurried over to the potion cabinet to pull the necessarily potions to help Draco recover his strength.

Draco opened his mouth to speak but his voice was so hoarse and dry, that anything that he croaked out was unintelligible.

"Oh, dear boy, let me get you some water. Here you go. Drink slowly, that's it, don't choke on it."

"Why am I here?" Draco said in a rasped tone. He groaned and curled into a ball, "My head hurts."

"Here, drink this. It will help with the pain." She watched as Draco slowly sipped the potion, and making a face after every sip from the awful taste. "You were attacked." she said, and pushed another potion into his hand. "It's for you to regain your energy." she commented and nodded towards the potion, encouraging him to drink it. "You were out for a week."

"A week?" Draco repeated in a daze. He gasped. "What day is today?" he asked urgently.

Pomfrey looked up in thought, "Mmm… Wednesday?"

"Shite, it's the Quidditch match today! What time is it?"

"You don't expect to go do you? In your condition?" Pomfrey snapped, but she still replied to Draco's question. "It's nearly eleven."

"It's about to start." Draco murmured dejectedly and slouched into the cot, upset that he couldn't attend.

Pomfrey regarded him with pity. In efforts to comfort him, she said, "It's quite alright. At least the Slytherins are not playing today. It's Gryffindor against Hufflepuff."

As Pomfrey walked away to release the owl outside to notify Snape, she heard Draco mutter, "I'm missing the chance to see Potter fall off his broom." She shook her head. When will these childish House rivalries ever end? "You should get some rest." She told Draco, and drew the curtains around Draco's cot.

* * *

Just as Draco was about to drift off to sleep, the infirmary doors slammed open. He heard at least half a dozen of shouting voices, but Draco couldn't quite make out what they were saying. Draco sat up and strained his ears to hear the conversation.

"You all stay outside for a moment while I talk to Madam Pomfrey alone." A voice said sternly to the group. The doors shut close, and the pitter patter of steps became louder as the figure drew closer. "Poppy, Poppy!"

It was Professor McGonagall, and she sounded out of breath.

"There's been another attack." She told the nurse in a hushed tone.

Draco heard a gasp. "A double attack?" Pomfrey breathed.

Curious to see what was going on, Draco crept silently towards the small gap between the drawn curtains and took a peek outside.

The mass of unruly brown curls was a dead giveaway that the girl lying on the cot was Hermione Granger. Figures, the Mudblood had it coming, he thought. He saw a neighboring girl next to the Mudblood, a Ravenclaw, but Draco didn't know who she was, but she was definitely not a Pureblood.

"What are we going to do?" Pomfrey asked, sounding nervous. "Professor Dumbledore is outside the Castle and now there's a double attack…"

McGonagall drew a deep breath. "Go get Severus, Poppy."

"Severus?"

"Yes. Tell him to come to the infirmary at once. Oh, there are a few others outside… Mr. Potter, Mr. Weasley, Professor Sprout and Professor Lockhart. Do keep them outside until Severus gets here. I don't imagine it will take long."

"I'll go right away." Madam Pomfrey said before rushing out of the infirmary.

"What are we going to do, Albus?" Professor McGonagall said to herself once she was alone. "What is to become of Hogwarts if the monster isn't controlled?"

She walked towards Hermione and she sat down on the stool next to her cot.

"Dear child," She said sadly and brushed some hair away from Hermione's frozen face. "The monster shouldn't have attacked you. Heavens child, why were you with Miss Clearwater?"

Draco's heart skipped a beat and couldn't believe his ears.

 _What? What is she saying?_

* * *

 ** _A/N: Hello! Thank you for all the support from the last chapter. Again, I will be beginning book 3 in the next chapter. If there are any scenes or situations that you'd like to see, do let me know in a review! To clarify, Penelope Clearwater is most definitely a Muggleborn in this fic. I know it was a little grey in Cannon, but this justifies why Hermione was attacked when she is a Pureblood._**

 ** _Special thanks to Grovek26, LadyHermioneMalfoy1, JuliSt, SmileSimplify, Vanessa85, Guest "t", mega700201, and ISolemnlySwearToManageMischief for your review and input!_**

 ** _LadyHermioneMalfoy1: I love the idea of seeing Draco's Boggart. What should his Boggart be?Voldy? Ferret? Something else? This idea, I will definitely implement into the story :)_**

 ** _SmileSimplify: Your analysis is completely on point. I think it's still a little too early to veer away from cannon, but you're definitely right. It will come sooner or later._**

 ** _Guest "t": I'm glad the last chapter got you thinking of when he would get rid of the diary. Really, Ginny stole it from him when she attacked him. Then the story basically follows cannon during the week before Hermione is attacked (Ginny tosses the diary in the bathroom, Harry finds it, Ginny breaks into Harry's room to steal it). I'm happy to say that the slap/punch will happen, I haven't decided how I want it executed though._**

 ** _Take care everyone!_**


	21. Chapter 21

**Chapter Twenty-One: Hogwarts Again**

Goodbyes never were easy for Narcissa Malfoy, especially when it concerned her only child. Every Hogwarts sendoff made her excessively worried, and her worry was fueled by the same thought: that if she let Draco out of her sight, it perhaps might be their last goodbye. Lucius would chide her, telling her that it was unnecessary, but it did little to make her feel any less uneasy, especially considering what had happened just a few short months ago.

"I love you," she whispered, with her son wrapped tightly in her arms. She lowered her head lovingly and inhaled deeply, making sure to remember his scent, his height that would soon reach her shoulders, and his warm hold that he reciprocated. This was embarrassing for Draco, after all a mother's anxiety was not something that a young teenager could understand, and Draco just responded with a nod, as he silently wished that this display of affection would be over soon (and that other people weren't watching).

Lucius watched on with a stoic face and his arms crossed. This goodbye was much harder than the first time they had sent Draco off to Hogwarts, after what had happened in last year. His son was bloody attacked within the walls of the Hogwarts castle, a place where it was supposedly safe.

After the incident, Narcissa had wanted to transfer Draco to Durmstrang Institute, her initial qualms of Draco being as far away as Sweden was decidedly a price she was willing to pay if it meant that he was safe. "I'm no seer, but call it a mother's intuition…" she had told him, "there will not be a quiet year at Hogwarts with Harry Potter attending that school." Her point was valid, Lucius conceded. Harry Potter seemed to attract trouble wherever he went.

It took Lucius weeks to convince the woman that Severus Snape was a better man to put their trust in than the slimy Igor Karkaroff, after all, the man had snitched on several of his fellow Death Eaters in exchange for the pardon of his crimes. That man clearly only cared about himself and won't hesitate to throw others under in his stead.

Draco loosened himself from his mother's embraced and he looked up at her. "Mother, please stop worrying. I promise I won't cause trouble." He said the words as earnestly as he could, though he knew full well that he said it to ease the separation for his mother, rather than to seriously keep out of trouble.

As if reading his mind, Narcissa gave him a small bitter smile and ran a hand through his loose, platinum locks. His hair fell perfectly back into place. "Oh, Draco, you don't have to lie to me. We both know that trouble will come whether you're the one to start it or not. Just, be careful. The world isn't as safe as it used to be."

It sure wasn't. It was just recently announced in the _Daily Prophet_ that Sirius Black had escaped his maximum security cell in Azkaban, and he was recently spotted at Hogsmeade, which wasn't a far walk from Hogwarts. Draco supposed he could understand his mother's concern. No mother would feel at ease knowing that a known felon was lurking so close to the school grounds.

He helpfully supplied, "Do you mean Sirius Black?"

Narcissa chuckled as if she heard a funny joke. "No, Draco. Sirius Black is the last person I'm worried about. He has no reason to come after you, and he's a Black -" she paused and sighed, looking nostalgic. "-he's family." she said at last. "The Noble House of Black may have produce some radical individuals in its time, but this second cousin of mine will certainly not hurt family if he can help it."

Draco frowned. "Then who are you saying I should be cautious of then?" He had a feeling that his mother was hiding something from him.

Narcissa's eyes quickly darted towards Lucius for help, an action that didn't escape Draco's keen observation, and thus his suspicion was confirmed. Narcissa was troubled, she certainly couldn't tell Draco about the Dark Lord's hidden agenda to claim Draco's body as his own after his revival.

Luckily her husband caught her look and replied in a drawl, "The blood traitors, son. Have you so quickly forgotten what the little Weasley brat did to you? She attacked you while your back was turned… all for the sake of retrieving a diary." He tutted, "Some secrets she must've wrote in there."

"No, I haven't forgotten, Father." Draco replied, but he knew full well that that excuse wasn't the real answer, and whatever it was, they weren't going to tell him today.

Just then, Lucius caught a flash of red hair out of the corner of his eye, and he purposely spoke a little louder, "Remember this, son, the blood traitors are easily manipulated, weak minded fools that can't think for themselves. They blindly trust that fool Dumbledore, a complete narcissist if I've ever seen one, and allow themselves to be willing exploited. Then one of their own gets easily possessed by the enchantment of some diary, to the point where they set a monster to attack the Mudbloods that they vow to protect… what a joke!"

"Arthur, keep walking," he heard a scowling Molly say heatedly to her spouse. "He's just trying to rile you up again and cause a scene. Don't listen to him."

Arthur and the Weasley brood pushed past them with a look of contempt on their faces.

The Hogwarts Express's conductor blew his whistle. "All aboard!" he cried.

With a smirk, Lucius Malfoy turned back to his family and said his final goodbyes to his son before ushering him onto the train. The pair watched the train leave the station until it was only a wisp of smoke far off in the distance. They then apparated back home to the Manor.

* * *

To be honest, Lucius felt no penitence at all for slipping Tom Riddle's diary into the Weasley runt's school things, after all, the little bint had almost killed his son. He supposed they were even now, an eye for an eye.

His initial intention of getting Arthur Weasley in a sticky situation with the Ministry had certainly backfired on him, nearly costing him the life of his son. Not to mention, Draco had dabbled first hand with the dark artifact himself for quite a long period of time. Lucius hoped that it didn't do any lasting damage to his soul or else he could never forgive himself.

The diary belonging to the Half-blood devil himself was not something that Lucius was aware of. When Snape recounted to him about how Draco was possessed in the most literal sense by the diary, Lucius was floored. Even the young Dark Lord had taken interest with his son and commented that Draco had the potential to achieve great things, and that, made him nervous.

Upon returning home, Lucius excused himself and entered his private study. With the door shut sturdily behind him and locked both manually and magically for good measure, he made his way over to an antique hardwood bookcase. His hand flitted over a few titles before he finally tipped the dark green tome on the shelf at eye-level forty-five degrees towards him. The bookcase slowly swung forward to reveal a secret room, a room that was passed down through the generations from the first Malfoy patriarch that built the Malfoy Manor.

Once inside, Lucius took a few quick steps over to an ornate glass cabinet, in which there were glass vials inside. Each vial was shimmering with memories from past Malfoy's, or from close acquaintances to the family. His fingers hovered over the vials, pausing briefly at the two vials his father left him at his deathbed. Today, was not the day to relive that moment, he decided, and reached for the vial that his mind was set on.

With the vial in his hand, Lucius rolled it on his open palm to verify the label.

 _'March 1993 - Severus's visit to the Hogwarts infirmary'_

Without a second thought, Lucius uncorked the vial and poured its contents into the Pensieve standing next to the cabinet and allowed himself to be sucked into the contents.

* * *

Once he felt himself on solid ground again, Lucius straightened his robes with a huff. He was in the Hogwarts hallway, right in front of the infirmary. He heard footsteps coming his direction and it wasn't long before a tense looking Severus Snape and a distraught Madam Pomfrey turned the corner. As the two approached the infirmary, Harry Potter and Ronald Weasley, both still in their Quidditch uniform, stopped their mad pacing and blabbering to Professor Sprout and Professor Lockhart and ran up to them. Lucius followed closely behind Severus.

"It was Malfoy!" a very angry Harry accused. "He's the one that did this to her! It _has_ to be him, I know it."

"Hermione told us that Malfoy had threatened her. He said, 'You'll be next, Mudblood' when she bumped into him while alone in the halls over Christmas Hols. He planned it all!" Ron supplied in a flurry of words, eager to support his best mate.

Professor Lockhart took a step forward. "Well, Severus, that seems like intent to me! What do you have to say about your charge?" Lockhart chimed brightly, a tone certainly not appropriate for the current situation.

Snape's face darkened and he leered at Lockhart like he was the stupid git that he was, and then promptly ignored him. He wasn't going to dignify that comment with a response.

Judging from his expression, Lucius could tell that Severus was very angry, but when he spoke, his tone was kept surprisingly even. "Mr. Malfoy may have said some stupid things in anger, much like you two are doing now, but I will caution you Mr. Potter and Mr. Weasley, that thoughtless words are one thing, but accusations carry a much different weight in a trial. You best have some evidence before making such accusations or one day you will suffer the consequences."

"But Professor! Surely he has been plotting for ages. Was he even attacked anyway? It could be part of his plan to throw us off his scent." Ron exclaimed.

"Mr. Weasley, might I remind you that it was your very own sister that found Mr. Malfoy? Was she part of the ploy then too, I wonder? I'm sure that Madam Pomfrey can assure you that the attack was very real. He was seriously injured and almost lost his life from blood loss."

Madam Pomfrey nodded vigorously in agreement.

"Now who would be as reckless as almost plotting his own death just to petrify your friend and a few Muggleborns? Don't think so highly of yourselves." Snape sneered. Then he looked at Harry, his cold stare chilled Harry to the core. "You're the most arrogant of all, taking after your good for nothing father. Wake up, Mr. Potter. You're the 'Chosen One' not because you're anything special, it's because Lily made the sacrifice to save you that night. It was her magic, not yours that defied the Dark Lord. You're no different than any other brat."

Just then, the doors opened and an angry McGonagall stepped out with a frown on her face, "That's enough! I can hear all the ruckus that you all are causing from inside. Mr. Potter, stop with your accusations of Mr. Malfoy. He has been unconscious in the infirmary all this time and couldn't have possibly attacked Miss Granger. Now if you want to see Miss Granger, you both will have to behave yourselves and quiet down."

With downcast eyes, both boys nodded begrudgingly.

"Follow me." Professor McGonagall said grimly, her lips pressed into a thin line.

* * *

Lucius could tell that it was uncomfortable for the boys to see their friend in that state. They adverted their eyes from her glossy stare and instead focused their attention at the mirror that she was holding. It was a bizarre sight for them. Hermione wasn't the type of girl to be checking her reflection in the halls.

Harry turned away and look at the other girl adjacent to Hermione's cot. He nodded towards that girl's direction and asked, "Professor McGonagall, who is she?"

"Penelope Clearwater, a Muggleborn." the older witch replied.

Madam Pomfrey turned away with a dejected sigh and commented, "what were those two girls thinking, two Muggleborns roaming the hallways alone late at night."

To an extent, Professor McGonagall nodded in agreement, "Poppy, we'll continue to have students escorted to their classes during the day and now we'll now have all Muggleborns escorted by a Head or a Professor if they are to walk the halls at night as an extra precaution." She turned to the two Gryffindors. "Come along now Mr. Potter and Mr. Weasley. All the students should be gathered in the Great Hall. I will need to address the situation."

Harry and Ron gave one last gloomy look at their friend before they turned and followed Professor McGonagall. Lockhart tagged along to 'enlighten' Professor McGonagall on some of the hypotheses that he had regarding the Heir of Slytherin.

"Professor Sprout, let us check on the Mandrakes again." Madam Pomfrey said and Professor Sprout nodded in agreement.

"Thank you, Poppy and Pomona." Professor McGonagall said with an appreciated look.

When the doors of the infirmary closed shut, leaving just Snape, Severus walked over to the drawn curtains of Draco's cot.

"You're awake aren't you?" he asked as he flung the curtains opened. He had just read the note that Madam Pomfrey had sent letting him know that Draco was awake when Madam Pomfrey herself burst into his office going off about a double attack.

His eyes widened in surprise when they landed on his godson. Draco was sitting in fetal position, with his head resting on top of his knee. Severus quickly bent down to examine the boy, his brows furrowed with worry. "Draco, are you alright? Is something hurting?"

When the boy shook his head left and right in reply, Severus let out a relieved sigh and transfigured a stool to sit on.

"Uncle Sev, I'm so confused." the boy breathed, "I don't know what's going on. I have a bad feeling that I was involved in the attacks somehow."

Snape leaned in. "What are you talking about?" Snape hissed. "Do you understand what you're saying, Draco?"

Draco felt so overwhelmed, he started crying to Snape's dismay.

Snape's brows furrowed feeling immensely worried about his godson. For him to break down like this, something was terribly wrong. "Draco," Snape said a little more kindly (though it didn't have the desired effect as Draco bawled even louder). The corner of Snape's mouth twitched. He didn't have the time and patience for this.

"Draco, look at me." he said. Draco stiffened, and the boy briefly held on to his tears, but he pulled himself into an even tighter ball.

"Draco, do you hear me? Look at me." Snape demanded a little more gruffly. Snape pawed away his godson's arms and forced him to face up. Draco's eyes were puffy and blood shot from the crying. He didn't dare look him in the eye. As a last resort, Snape roughly grabbed Draco's face towards him. That startled Draco and caused him to meet his eyes directly for a brief second.

" _Legilimens._ "

To Snape's absolute surprised, he was shunned outside the boy's mind, and knocked back into his seat, almost falling off the stool.

 _What's going on?_ Snape thought. There was no way that the boy could have excelled in Occlumency to that level in the span of several weeks. There was something that his godson wasn't telling him, and he was going to find out.

" _Legilimens._ " Snape snarled. This time, he put more intent into the spell, and the spell easily shattered Draco's well built Occlumency defenses.

Snape saw it all, flashbacks of Draco slipping the diary into his pocket, of him finding out how to work the diary, of him threatening Hermione, of him seeing Hermione in the infirmary, and finally of him overhearing Minerva implying that Hermione wasn't a true Muggleborn.

But what was most disconcerting to Snape were the scenes of Draco befriending Tom Riddle.

It all made sense, how Draco advanced his Occlumency skills so quickly…

 _Sweet Salazar, the boy learned his Occlumency skills from the Dark Lord himself._

The memory ended and Lucius found himself back in his study, breathing heavily with a major headache.

* * *

"That was the most shitty train ride ever." Draco spat. Blaise and Theo nodded in agreement, both finishing up another piece of chocolate frog upon the recommendation of the tattily dressed Professor.

Dementors were horrible creatures, and Draco felt terrible with just one of those monsters gliding past his compartment. It felt so cold and his stomach churned with an inexplicable feeling of dread and misery. If these creatures roamed the halls of Azkaban freely, he pitied his Aunt Bellatrix.

The three Slytherins hopped off the train just in time to see the Golden Trio approach, with Harry in the middle, looking weak and pale, and Hermione and Ron both looking worried, asking Harry if he was alright.

"I heard you fainted, Potter. Big ol' Dementor frighten you that much that you went into shock?" Malfoy called out with a jeer.

"Shove off, Malfoy," Ron said, looking ready to fight him.

Hermione frowned. "I'd like to see how you would react if the Dementor came and stared _you_ in the face, Malfoy." Hermione retorted. Then she added the finishing blow, "Your precious Daddy won't be around for you to hid behind him."

The tips of Malfoy's ears tinged pink and he shouted, "No one asked for your opinion, you - " He paused and the words of his father flashed before his mind.

 _Remember this, Draco, no one can find out that Hermione is a Pureblood. I made a promise to your grandfather to protect her. Continue with the taunts, let the rest of the world believe that she's a Mudblood and when the time comes, her identity will be rightfully revealed._

"-filthy, dirty, Mudblood." he finish, with as much disdain as he could muster into his voice.

Hermione looked hurt, but for the sake of Harry, the three moved past them to get harry into a carriage.

Draco watched on but his sneer morphed into a frown. He was confused. He felt as if his world was turned upside down. What does the word _Mudblood_ mean anymore? All his life he was taught to hate these individuals that weren't deserving of magic and yet, when he encountered his first at school, she turned out to be a Pureblood in disguise.

He masked his expression once again. Pureblood or not, he still disliked the know-it-all Granger. She was still just as revolting as before with her swotty attitude and her sucking up to all the Professors.

"Come on, Draco, let's go." Blaise called out. Draco climbed into the carriage after him and the three joked around and reenacted Harry's fainting spell until they reached the Hogwarts castle.

It would take Draco at least another year to realize that his perception of the girl had already changed. He no longer watched her like she was the dirt that could stain his crisp white oxford.

No… he observed her as an equal.

* * *

 ** _A/N: My plunny had decided to run away from me and I had a hard time getting this chapter to come together. I wanted to tie up some loose ends from book 2 as well as get book 3 introduced. Not to mention I wanted to remind readers that Abraxas had left Lucius with some memories that have not been seen in the story yet. Anyway, I've caught my plunny and have securely locked her up in her cage._**

 ** _As always, thank you for your support. If you haven't read my other active story, "The Lady in Waiting," do give it a read. It's a light hearted AU, and should be enjoyable if you're a sucker for romantic pieces._**

 ** _Big shout out to lexxiebabey, Grovek26, Bratalia, Guest "t", JuliSt, JessChen, DianneBaquiran, Kathryin, mega700201, LadyHermioneMalfoy1, "Guest", Vanessa85, and SmileSimplify for your written comments and words of thanks. Appreciate it!_**

 ** _BTW, still open on ideas for Draco's boggart and what your favorite scenes from book 3 are. Send me a note :)_**


	22. Chapter 22

**Chapter Twenty-Two: The Loony Prophet**

When Hermione Granger's hair frizzed like that, like she had to cross a static field before she made her way to the Great Hall, Ron and Harry knew she was in a foul mood.

They watched as their best friend heaved the book bag off her shoulder before dropping it to the floor. The bag gave a loud and unceremonious "thunk" as it hit the floor, causing the two boys, as well as several others, to stop their conversations and divert their eyes to the source of the noise that was loud enough to be heard over all the chatter.

They stared at the girl's belongings. Evidently, the bag was bursting at the seams with more books than what was needed for the day. Well, for a normal day's worth of classes at least. Unbeknownst to them, Hermione had already finished one of her nine o'clock classes scheduled for the day, with the help of a little magic from the Time Turner that was given to her at the start of term last week.

Oblivious to the curious glances around her, and quite frankly, too irritated to care, Hermione stepped over the bench and sat down with a huff. There was a 'no-nonsense' air about her, and she merely greeted Harry and Ron with a small 'hey'. She immediately reached for the pitcher of juice and poured herself a glass. The trek from the Arithmancy classroom to the Great Hall certainly made her thirsty.

Ron and Harry exchanged a puzzled glance at each other. Hermione sounded tired and the day only just begun! Missing was her usual, energetic spirit, ready to tackle the day head on, and her determination to learn as much as she could.

Why was she carry _all_ those books anyway? Knowing Hermione, the must have been a reason.

"Erm, Hermione," Harry commented hesitantly and fixed his glasses on the bridge of his nose, a nervous habit of his. "You know you don't have to bring all your books with you to class. Just enough for the courses that day."

"Of course I know that, Harry." Hermione responded flippantly.

Hermione waved his comment off and downed the entire glass of orange juice before reaching for a piece of bread to make herself some toast. She had more important things on her mind.

She let out a frustrated sigh at the thought of the four-foot long essay that Professor Vector had just assigned, as she absentmindedly reached for the butter knife and a wad of butter.

Ron voice interrupted her thoughts. "We know you like to read, but blimey Hermione, you're going to hurt yourself carrying all those books with you everywhere you go. Why don't you just make a stop back at the Commons during passing period?"

Harry gave Ron an appreciative look for the brilliant remark. It was a comment that prompted further discussion from the girl, but sprinkled with some friendly worry for her well-being so it didn't seem like they were prying.

Hermione was brushing butter on her toast, but after Ron's comment, she stopped and left her toast half-buttered. With an eye roll, she replied, "Seriously, Ronald. Thanks for your concern, but you _know_ that I'm taking a lot of classes. I need all these books with me."

Harry laughed. Towards the end of last term, their friend did claim that she was going to sign up for all the classes that third years were allowed to take, but it was physically not possible! He figured that Hermione was just jesting. Deciding to humor her, he said, "I can't believe you're taking so many classes. There doesn't even seem to be enough hours in the day to do that. How do you do it?"

Turns out, Harry's question was rhetorical. Hermione was about to comment, but she shut her mouth when it was clear that Harry wasn't exactly expecting a response from her. After Ron had muttered something that sounded like "That's Hermione for you", the two boys turned back to their breakfast and started a conversation about when the first Quidditch match would be.

Hermione dropped her eyes back to the sad, half-buttered toast on her plate. She shrugged to herself. "I'll manage," she whispered and she straightened her jumper, making sure that her time turner was still tucked out of sight.

* * *

Hermione slipped into her seat at Harry and Ron's table a few minutes after class had started. Luckily, it didn't look like the Divinations Professor had started class yet.

She was a bit out of breath, but the boys didn't seem to notice her presence, let alone her light panting to get the much needed air to her lungs. She practically sprinted her way through the corridor and up the spiral stairs to get to the classroom.

Needless to say, she had a horrid time getting from her Muggle Studies class to Divination. To get to the Divination classroom, one would have to pass by the Arithmancy classroom, the class that she had taken before breakfast with the help of her Time Turner. But both classes were held at the same time, so she very well couldn't let herself be seen by her Arithmancy classmates.

What would they say if they saw her one minute inside the classroom and then the next strolling down the hallway, coming from the opposite direction? Professor Vector couldn't possibly send all of them to the Hospital Wing to get their eyes checked. Madam Pomfrey would throw a fit!

However, the true reason why she was late was due to none other than the bane of her existence.

Sodding Draco Malfoy was in her Arithmancy class, and for whatever reason, he was lingering in the hallway, right outside the room, flanked by Blaise Zabini and Theodore Nott after class was dismissed. Hermione watched them from behind her hiding place. They were chatting animatedly, and Draco said something to cause his friends to chortle.

Hermione's foot tapped on the stone floor impatiently on its own accord as she leaned deeper into the pillar that was keeping her out of sight.

For the love of all that was holy, when were they going to leave! Slimy Slytherin gits!

Hermione huffed impatiently. It had been at least five minutes, and pretty soon, she would need to relinquish her hiding spot to get to class, or else, she'd be dreadfully late. She didn't know whether Professor Trelawney would be the lenient type or not. Deciding that couldn't wait anymore, Hermione took a deep breath and trod on, silently hoping that Malfoy would let her pass without much hassle.

But of course, the gods were never on her side when it concerned Draco Malfoy.

When Draco saw her, confusion flashed across his eyes for a brief second before the mask of indifference returned. His quicksilver eyes darted from Hermione to the classroom, then back to Hermione in quick successions. He could have sworn that Granger hadn't left the room yet… he was waiting for her to come out. Had she slipped out when he was joking with Blaise and Theo?

Dismissing and pocketing the thought to the back of his mind to ponder on at another time, he intercepted her by stepping directly in her line of path. This forced Hermione to stop in her tracks, lest she wanted to run straight into Malfoy.

With his arms crossed and a condescending smirk on his face, he called, "Oi, Mudblood!"

Hermione cursed her luck and hissed under her breath. She looked up and scowled at Malfoy. She even tried to quicken her step to walk around the annoying prat. To her dismay, Zabini and Nott blocked her path to either side of Malfoy.

Malfoy looked amused when he saw Hermione quickly changing to a defensive stance and retreated a few steps to put some distance between them. She wasn't a fool, she knew she was outnumbered. Very slowly, her hand inched inside her robes and she held on to her wand.

Malfoy must have noticed her actions, however minute they were, and he taunted her. "Look here, we have Mudblood Granger scared of us with us just standing here. We've got her reaching for her wand, she's that scared!" Both Blaise and Theo joined in with laughter.

"What do you want, Malfoy?" Hermione cut in exasperatedly. She didn't have time for this.

"I have a message for Potter," Malfoy said looking all too pleased with himself. Hermione wasn't sure if she really wanted to hear what it was, but the three Slytherin boys weren't about to give her a choice. She leered at Malfoy, using her eyes to tell him to get on with it.

An insolent smile spread across his face before he continued. "I hear he's still thrashing about at night, getting nightmares about the Dementors. Poor Potter." Malfoy didn't sound sympathetic at all. "Well, let him know that more Dementors will be patrolling around Hogwarts." Then he looked even more smug, if that was possible. "If he's that's terrified, tell him to come beg at my feet and I'll consider telling my Father to call them off. My Father has a lot of influence with the Ministry you know."

Hemione's eyes narrowed. Any influence Lucius Malfoy had over the Ministry was probably through threats and bribery.

"You're sick, Malfoy," she seethed. "Fat chance! I won't deliver your message. I'm not your damn house elf, waiting around just to do your bidding."

Draco snorted. "That's just laughable. Dream on, Granger. You wish you could compare with the house elves, but you're just a filthy Mudblood. Your status doesn't even deem you qualified to serve me."

White hot rage flashed before Hermione's eyes and she whipped out her wand and pointed it at Malfoy's chest. She looked menacing, but in a striking 'female warrior' sort of way.

To her disappointment, Malfoy didn't even flinch. In fact, her actions only accomplished making Malfoy look even more amused. He quirked his eyebrows at her.

"Go on," he said in a lazy drawl, walking a step closer so that his chest was pressed right into the tip of Hermione's wand "Hex me." he taunted again.

Hermione's brows furrowed and her jaw was set. She lost this round and she knew it. Students were not allowed to use magic in the halls, and hexing a student within the Castle was definitely out of the question.

Malfoy's trademark smirk was once again on full display. He lifted two fingers and easily swiped Hermione's wand away from his chest. Then, he leaned in closer and whispered hotly, "I'd like to see what kind of detention you'd be given for hexing me. Where has your rash Gryffindor bravery gone? Hex me with your best spell, Granger. I'll get the last laugh when I see you suffering through detention. I'm sure you'll think about me while you serve detention. That it was I, Draco Malfoy, that was the source of all your troubles, tarnishing your perfect record with the professors."

Draco could feel the anger and hatred radiating from Hermione and that did well to quench his sadistic thirst. One look at her enraged face and he knew that she was clenching her teeth so hard, that her jaw was bound to get sore.

Feeling accomplished for getting under Granger's skin, he nodded over to Blaise and Theo. "Come on, let's head over to Potion class."

* * *

Hermione refused to let that blonde prat ruin her day. She quickly shook her head to clear all thoughts of Malfoy from her head, and she faked a smile.

"Where's the professor?" she asked Harry and Ron in a hushed tone, pulling out her Divination textbook from her book bag. The two boys jumped in surprise.

"Where did you come from?" Ron asked incredulously.

Hermione reached for the teapot in the center of the table and took the liberty of pouring herself a cup of tea. Since she didn't have a tea cup, she took Harry's.

"I've been here all this time. Thanks, Ronald, for your brilliant observations." Hermione said snidely and raised the cup to her lips. "Bleh!" she sputtered. "Why are there grounds in this tea?" Hermione only took half a sip before placing the cup nonchalantly back into Harry's saucer.

At that moment, a misty sort of voice floated to the room. "Welcome, children. Welcome to Divination!"

Hermione sat up straighter in her chair, and gave the Professor her undivided attention.

Their first lesson was Tessomancy, which explained the tea. Hermione's frown became deeper and deeper as the course went on. Divination seemed like a dubious subject to her, and it involved a lot of guesswork to say the least. Seriously? They were going to be looking at tea grits like they were children looking up at clouds, and letting their imagination run wild to define the shapes. That can hardly constitute as a valid prediction, let alone a prophecy.

Hermione quickly forced another smile to her face when Professor Trelawney came to their table to help 'guide their spiritual eye in the right direction'.

"Heaven's child, not even the best seer can read your tea leaves with all that tea in your cup." She was jittery with her actions, but the Professor picked up Harry's cup, and threw the tea back behind her. Luckily, no one was standing behind her.

She set it down and gasped.

"What?" Harry asked, sounding alarmed.

"No…no, it can't be!" Professor trembled and both hands covered her mouth.

The rest of the class turned their attention to the outburst. Hermione rolled her eyes.

"It's the… the Grim!" Professor Trelawney cried aghast.

"Why, that's the omen of death!" Seamus said, his finger pointing to a page in the textbook.

"That's just ridiculous!" Hermione huffed. She shoved her teacup under Trelawney's nose. "Tell me what mine says then." Even Ron was startled by her blatant disrespect to a Professor.

Professor Trelawney held the cup in both hands, and gingerly rotated the teacup back and forth, looking at it at all angles. Hermione had one eyebrow raise as she watched Trelawney working the teacup. The professor's large glasses magnified her eyes and Hermione stifled a laugh. Professor Trelawney gave her a look that would seem to suggest that she heard her, and Hermione relaxed her facial features as best as she could.

"My dear," she said with a hit of slight distaste at Hermione, "if you weren't able to read this cup, then I'm afraid that you lack the gift, your inner eye is as closed as a blind mole rat."

"Oh, is that right? Tell me what you see then." Hermione looked down her nose at Trelawney.

Trelawney straightened up and huffed indignantly. She turned the cup towards the class before she spoke. "The blade of a sharp knife. There will be bloodshed. An owl, a symbol of status, intelligence and of course, wealth. And what's this? A lynx? The animal that represents movement through time and space, and the keeper of all secrets and mysteries…" She eyed Hermione with a dazed look. "Are you keeping secrets from us, my dear?"

Hermione's eyes narrowed and didn't respond.

The room was quiet and the tension was thick.

Finally, after what seemed like hours to Hermione, Professor Trelawney chimed brightly, "Oh would you look at the time, class dismissed! I want a foot long parchment about the themes that you saw within your tea reading."

* * *

 ** _A/N: Hello All, thanks for reading this chapter! Are you excited to know that the next chapter will feature Beaky? Depending on how long the scene is, I might squeeze in the boggart scene as well._**

 ** _Got a question for you. Would you like to see Hermione's boggart? (It'll be different from Cannon). I already have Draco's boggart settled already. I'm nervous to see if you all will approve of it._**

 ** _This chapter was made possible by support from SmileSimplify, mega700201, KaTee19, Grovek26, JuliSt, Guest, Guest "t", and to the folks that subscribed and favorited this story. Thanks!_**

 ** _SmileSimplify: I appreciate you letting me know of my typo on the last chapter! That was embarrassing! I proofread my story a few times, but of course, things still slip past. Please continue to let me know! Don't worry about Plunny, he has his own bunny apartment to himself. And he like carrot sticks. :) I'm glad you like how DM interacted with NM. I'd like to believe that DM has feelings, especially for his family, but he is just very talented at compartmentalizing his feelings to lead others to believe otherwise. NM does know about diary/horcrux, that's why she tries to (but fails to) get DM transferred to Durmstrang._**

 ** _JuliSt / KaTee19 / "t" : Thanks for your comment RE: how the last chapter was written. I knew it was kind of weird, so I wasn't sure how people liked my style of writing. Your positive reinforcement warmed my heart._**


	23. Chapter 23

**Chapter Twenty-Three: The Talons that Drew Blood**

After Professor Trelawney had dismissed the class, Hermione was the first of her classmates to lower herself out of the trapdoor. When her feet landed safely onto the paved corridor and away from that stuffy Divinations classroom, she sighed, feeling extremely relieved to be out of there.

Hermione sucked in a deep breath of fresh air and exhaled slowly, concentrating on letting the exhale carry some of her stress along with it.

She leaned against the wall and surrendered to her thoughts, as she waited for Harry and Ron.

Hermione already knew that Divination would be, hands down, her least favorite subject this year. That much was clear to her not even half an hour into the class.

Her brows furrowed. What _was_ that back there?! That crazy, eccentric woman had ought to be evaluated for her sanity.

The thought made Hermione wonder whether Dumbledore really _did_ give Trelawney a proper background check before she was admitted as a Professor.

Likely not.

She definitely did not appear to have the qualifications to be one. Not to mention, she was tremendously unprofessional! All that bogus tea readings must be a ploy to scare her students. The Grim? Hermione had a glimpse of Harry's cup, and that… _blob_ … looked _nothing_ like the Grim, even by the wildest stretch of imagination. And don't get her started on her own tea reading… bloodshed? As if all that gore was appropriate for the classroom.

Then she snorted. What else did she see in her cup? An Owl? That made absolute no sense at all. She had intelligence, sure, but status and wealth? That was nonexistent.

But above all, what made Hermione most angry was that the daft woman was about to blow her secret to all the Gryffindors in the room!

Was she _that_ mad that she ridiculed her in class and her mockery of a tea reading was some form of retaliation?

In retrospect, Hermione recognized that she was more than a bit rude to Trelawney, but she could have taken it out on her in another way! Take off House Points for Merlin's sake! Or give her detention!

She ran a hand over her face. What has gotten into her? She's been so tense and hot-tempered. It must be from all the stress from taking so many classes a day. Her hand fingered the chain that held her time turner.

She bit her lip nervously, thinking about the agreement that she had signed with the Ministry. The agreement stated that if her use of the time turner was made public, then not only would her access rights be revoked, but furthermore, no student in Hogwarts would be allowed to use the time turner ever again.

Her insides twisted with worry. Hermione didn't want _her_ to be the one to ruin it for the future ambitious students that walk the hallowed halls of Hogwarts.

"Hermione? Hermione?" Harry's voice floated into her mind. "You don't look too good. Are you feeling okay?"

Hermione blinked hard twice.

Ron was waving his hand in front of her face. "You looked zoned out just now."

She quickly forced herself into a small smile and the two boys seemed to buy it, looking more relaxed.

"I'm fine, Harry, Ron. Just thinking about some things that Trelawney said that are bothering me." She paused. Harry had flinched and had an uncomfortable look on his face, so Hermione knew that some of Trelawney's words must have affected him as well.

She reached out and put a hand on Harry's shoulder to comfort him. "You know what? I think I'll stop by Professor McGonagall's and talk to her. Surely she'll help me feel better. And Harry, I'll tell her about what she said about your tea reading. Don't worry too much, I'm almost positive that Trelawney is making it all up."

"She's right, mate." Ron said, giving Harry a hearty slap on the back. "Well, Hermione is _always_ right. Seems like Trelawney spouts more loony stuff than Luna." Then to Hermione, he asked, "We'll see you at lunch then?"

"Yea, can you save me a seat? I won't be too long."

* * *

The discussion with Professor McGonagall really did ease her low spirits. When Hermione arrived to the Great Hall, she was grinning from ear to ear. One look at her and Harry and Ron knew that she had good news to share. The girl didn't waste any time to tell them what she had found out.

"I knew it!" Hermione said triumphantly, "She's basically a compulsive liar."

Both boys' eyes bulged out and they shared a look with each other.

"Did McGonagall really say that?" Ron asked incredulously.

Hermione looked thoughtful and pursed her lips, "Well, not in _those_ words exactly, but that's basically what she was implying. I can catch the subtext. Anyway," She leaned in a little closer and the boys did the same. "apparently every start of term, she'll predict the death of someone, but, it hasn't proved true yet. In fact, Professor McGonagall said the last true prediction she made was at least a _decade_ ago. Trelawney doesn't have the talent to predict at will, so most of the stuff she spews out is all nonsense really."

Harry let out a sigh and looked slightly more relieved. "Well that makes me feel a ton better. Thanks for making the trip, Hermione."

Hermione smiled brightly back at Harry.

She felt a gentle poke at her side.

"Hurry and eat, Hermione. We'll have class again soon." Ron said, pushing some food onto Hermione's plate.

* * *

In the afternoon, the Golden Trio had another elective class together: Care for Magical Creatures. They were particularly excited for this class since Hagrid would be teaching. They would love to show their support for their half-giant friend.

As Harry, Hermione, and Ron walked down the path towards Hagrid's, they were joking about Divination again and Hermione's dislike for the subject clearly showed through her remarks towards the questionable academic value of subject.

"Divination is a whole lot of rubbish in my opinion. Ha!" She scoffed before muttering, "Inner eye… help me open my inner eye, Professor Trelawney! Help!" She laughed loudly. "What a joke!"

"Well, seems like the class will be easy enough. It's bloody fantastic! All we got to do is make up stuff." Upon his revelation, Ron burst into a wide grin.

"Yea, you just make up something about me dying and I'm sure you'll get brilliant marks."

"Harry! Don't say that. It's not funny!" Hermione gave him a reproachful look and Harry smiled wryly at her.

"Well, if it gives you good marks without any effort, I'm fine with it. Like you said, Divination is rubbish anyway, not like it's going to come true." Harry said in a playful tone, but Hermione caught the subtle hint of doubt in his voice. He quickly looked away from them, trying to hide his pensive frown, but Hermione caught the look.

It would seem that Harry still had trouble convincing himself that whatever Professor Trelawney saw, the Grim, was a load of crap.

Hermione pouted, seeing straight through Harry. She wasn't his best friend for no reason. She knew he was desperately trying to not let that senile woman's words affect him, but it wasn't working, even the slightest.

She bit her lip, raking her brain for something to say to Harry to make him feel better. "Oh Harry, we're in modern society." she said finally, confident that her voice of reason was the support that he needed. "There's no scientific proof that Divination works at all. It's just a way for those seers to make some quick galleons."

Ron looked puzzled, not knowing what the term 'science' was. "What is this 'scientific' thing that you speak of?"

"Well," Hermione started, using her 'intellectual' voice, the one she reserved for answering questions in class or teaching people.

"Now you've done it," Harry muttered to Ron. "She's going to go on forever."

"Science is the intellectual and practical activity encompassing the systematic study of the structure and behavior of the physical and natural world through observation and experiment…" She trailed off when she saw Ron looking even more confused. "It's a muggle concept." she ended flatly.

Someone from behind them clucked their tongue loudly. "You're letting your 'Muggle' seep through again." someone said in a sing-song voice. "Utterly barbaric, if you ask me. You disgusting Mudblood."

Hermione whipped her head around. Of course it was Malfoy.

Malfoy, Crabbe, Goyle, Pansy, and Blaise pushed past the three rudely and laughed to themselves. Before they walked too far away, Malfoy turned around and teased, "What's with your hair today, Granger? Looks like a bird's nest! Trying to hatch some birds in that hair of yours for some extra credit from that big oaf?"

The Slytherins howled with laughter.

"Ugh, I want to hex him so badly." Hermione seethed in rage. She's had too much of Malfoy for one day and her tolerance had worn thin since their morning encounter. "You think Hagrid will turn a blind eye if I hex Malfoy during his class?"

Harry chuckled, "Very likely. I think you should try." Hermione gave him a pointed look for encouraging her.

"You better kick his arse during the Quidditch match against Slytherin. Better yet, knock him of his broom and wipe that stupid Pureblood smirk off his face."

"It'll be my pleasure, Hermione."

Apparently, Malfoy was still in hearing distance. The blond boy turned around and sent them a glare. "I'd like to see you try, Potter." he spat.

* * *

This was a _nightmare_. Perhaps Hagrid should have thought through the class curriculum better. He's sure done it now.

The class gasped and backed off away from Buckbeak, the Hippogriff who was reminding the class that he could be a ferocious beast when he wanted to be. Poor Draco was writhing in pain on the floor, crimson blood spilling out from the gash in his open arm.

Pansy shrieked and cursed shrilly while using Crabbe and Goyle as her shield, in case Buckbeak charged in her direction.

This was madness. Hermione shook her head slightly from frustration and anxiousness. Why in the world did Hagrid think it was okay to introduced to them a _Hippogriff_ in his first class? They are proud creatures alright, which made them impossible to domesticate unless there was mutual trust.

This was not good.

Hagrid was getting Buckbeak to calm down and when he finally did, he threw a rat over far away from the class and Buckbeak happily pranced over to retrieve his snack, not before snorting at Malfoy. Hagrid turned back to Malfoy and he didn't seem to know what to do.

Hermione caught Hagrid's blank, frenzied look.

"Hagrid, he needs to be taken to the Hospital Wing. Now!" Hermione exclaimed.

That seemed to snap some sense into Hagrid. "'-er, right. Of course. I'll take him, I'm the teacher," he muttered before bending down to pick Malfoy up, none too gracefully, causing Draco to seethe a string of profanities.

"You big clumsy oaf, can't even do a job properly. Wait until my father hears about this. Letting your bloody overgrown chicken attack students." He groaned in agony, "My arm..., I think it's broken!"

When Hagrid and Malfoy were just a dot in the distance, Pansy stepped forward and knelt on the ground by the small pool of Draco's blood. By the look of her reaction, one would have thought that Malfoy had died, or at least seriously maimed. "My poor Drakey… look at his precious blood, spilt because of that ogre's inadequacies as a professor."

Hermione stepped behind Pansy's crouched form, peering over her shoulder. "It's just blood, Parkinson. We all have it." Hermione said in a calm tone. "Blood makes up seven percent of your body weight. He won't die from losing that little bit of blood. Relax."

"Relax!?" Pansy screeched, she was fuming for some reason. "It may be hard for your obtuse Muggle brain to understand the situation right now." She pointed at the blood. "This is blood from a _Pureblood_. It's a really big deal, Mudblood. This is untainted _magical_ _blood_." she said slowly, as if explaining to a child. "You _know_ Pureblood children get _kidnapped_ by the wrong sorts who would cut them, multiple times, just to harvest their blood and sell it in the black market, don't you?"

Hermione visibly flinched and Pansy snorted and rolled her eyes. "Oh, finally something that the Know-it-All _doesn't_ know. Of course you don't, you're a damn _Mudblood_. Your perspective of us is just a world filled with unicorns, love potions, and damn animals appearing and disappearing out of a hat. You don't understand how our world is, how we Purebloods are so endangered that if we're not careful, we'll end up one day as an ingredient in someone's dark potion."

Pansy's revelation left Hermione was dumbfounded, but she'll need time to look up whether Pansy was telling the truth or not. She made a note to herself to get it checked out. Her answers are likely in the Restricted Section of the library, so she'll need ask to borrow Harry's invisibility cloak as well.

But scientifically speaking, that can't be possible, so the pragmatic part of her brain prompted her to say as confidently as she could, "Blood is blood, Parkinson. Everyone has it and my blood is no different from Malfoy's blood unless you're looking at it at a molecular level in which case there are different blood _types_ -"

"Prove it." Pansy spat, standing up now, and crossed her arms over her chest as the Slytherin's stood behind her in formation.

Hermione was rambling before Pansy cut her off and she blinked in surprise. "Excuse me?" she asked incredulously.

"Prove. It." Pansy said slowly, enunciating every syllable before taking a languid step forward. She circled Hermione like an animal circling its prey. _Pansy must've been a vulture in a past life_. Hermione thought. _The ugliest kind._

"You're a _Mudblood_ , Granger. Don't act so high and mighty, throwing out your stupid Muggle theories. They don't apply in _our_ world." Pansy gave Hermione a cold sneer. "There's a reason why your sort are called MUD-BLOODS. Don't even pretend your blood is not a muddy, dirty-brown color. We all know it is. Draco's lineage is spotless, from the best pedigree. How dare you even compare yourself to the likes of him. You're not even on the same level."

Hermione's mouth hung open slightly at the pure stupidity of these wizards. They should perhaps get rid of stupid, useless, courses like Divination and incorporate a class in Biology or Physiology.

Deciding to settle this once and for all, and mostly to rub it in Pansy's Pureblood face, Hermione pushed up her left sleeve and held her left hand in front of her, towards Pansy. In a quick motion, she deftly drew her wand from the holster by her waist.

"No, Hermione! Don't do it!" Harry cried, knowing exactly what Hermione was planning to do.

She sent Harry an apologetic look. She was going to do this. " _Diffindo_ ," Hermione whispered and wince at the pain shooting up from her palm. Her brows furrowed and her brain was screaming at her for being so irrational, inflicting self-harm just to prove a point.

Too late to turn back now.

All so could do now is to keep her jaw clenched so that she won't accidentally whimper due to the pain. She will _not_ let the Slytherins get that satisfaction.

* * *

Red.

Her blood was red.

Red as the rose that the enchantress gave the Beast.

Red as the poisoned apple that stole Snow White's breath away.

Red as the blood spilt from Draco's wound.

Hermione was rewarded by the blank faces of her classmates and she smirked in triumph.

She continued to hold her wand hand steady, and made sure the spell only drew blood and not completely sever her hand clean off. The crimson blood, definitely the same color as Malfoy's trickled from her palm, down her arm, before dripping onto the ground.

Pansy, the other Slytherins, and the Gryffindors stared openly at Hermione, their eyes transfixed to her blood. Everyone held their breaths, and no one dared to utter a sound.

Hermione lowered her wand hand and took one slow step at a time until she stood right in front of Pansy. Her blood dripped steadily to the forest ground, making a dotted path. Their faces were less than a foot apart. Hermione stared straight into Pansy's eyes.

Pansy flinched and that brought a weird feeling of satisfaction for Hermione. Just to spite Pansy, she decided to let the sentiment show but she thoroughly surprised her classmates even more in the process.

Hermione wore an aristocratic smirk, one that was reminiscent of, no, perhaps even _rivaled_ that of Draco's finest. And she did it effortlessly.

Pansy blanched.

"You see, Parkinson?" She said evenly, in an audible whisper. The fact that Hermione didn't raise her voice made her even more intimidating than ever. But there was a lot of emotions intermingled with her words. What she was about to say was a direct result of Hermione channeling her anger, and intertwining with it was the hatred and disgust that had been pent up inside her from all the bullying from these elitists these past two years. She was absolutely _sick_ of it.

Very slowly, and making sure that Pansy was watching her every movement, she clenched her left hand together into a fist, and spread her fingers over the cut, ever so slowly, so that her scarlet blood covered all over her fingers.

She continued with that same, chilling whisper. "My blood is no different from yours nor Malfoy's."

It must be the adrenaline rush that caused her to be so bold, but Hermione then took her hand, and smeared it across the front of Pansy's crisp white Oxford shirt. Pansy recoiled and her eyes flickered in outright fear from the intensity of Hermione's stare.

"Now if you would excuse me," Hermione said, still using the same low tone. "I'm going to go get my wound mended back together."

She muttered a spell and loose bandages shot out from her wand and wrapped themselves around her hand. She then turned towards Harry and Ron and smiled sweetly at them, though her eyes were still hard with assertiveness that was so foreign to them. It commanded their attention, and what she said next seemed more like an order than a request.

"Can one of you boys be a dear and carry my book bag up to the castle for me? I'd hate to get blood all over it."

Harry and Ron just nodded dumbly, both gobstruck at the fierceness that Hermione was capable of exhibiting.

Without another word, Hermione spun on her heel and walked back up to the castle alone in the direction of the Hospital Wing.

Ignoring all the low murmurs from those around them, surely discussing heatedly about what had just happened, Ron nudged Harry in the side and whispered, "Remember what I had said during first year? She's brilliant… but scary..."

The raven-haired boy nodded in agreement. "Quick, let's get her stuff and get out of here. I have a feeling Parkinson will start screeching like a flock of harpies again."

Not long after that class was over, the outlandish rumors begun: that Hermione Granger was a Pureblood.

* * *

 ** _A/N: To the_** ** _Class of 2016 and all of you finishing up school. This is my present to you. Congratulations! Enjoy your summer!_**

 ** _To everybody: How did you feel about this chapter? Was it OOC, or was it believable that Hermione was capable of lashing back when cornered by someone as vile as Pansy?_**

 ** _This chapter was built on the idea that wizarding children are ignorant about the biological and chemical make-up of a human being. To me, it seemed reasonable since it's simply not in their curriculum. Wizards don't understand science just as muggles don't understand the magical properties within blood. You, my dear reader, will find out about it when Hermione does a little investigating ;D_**

 ** _To Guest "t", I'm sorry for not including Draco's POV on Buckbeak. I thought about a few possibilities, but in the end, it was too similar to Canon and it didn't make the cut. Where the story stands, Draco's character is still a bit two-dimensional, so I don't think including his perspective will add value to this story. To borrow reviewer JuliSt words, "Draco is such a child, a child with a bad attitude". This was also why last chapter, he was "chasing" Hermione. He still relishes being a bully. I promise Draco will start becoming three-dimensional by the end of book 3 (rather than like… book 6 in canon)._**

 ** _I've decided to include Hermione's boggart in the next chapter along with Draco's. Subscribe to find out what I have in store for them!_**

 ** _Want to make me happy? Push that little button and leave a question, comment, or even just "thanks". :) Take care._**


	24. Chapter 24

**Chapter Twenty-Four: Fears Unraveled Pt 1**

It was two full days after the eventful Care for Magical Creatures lesson, and the rumor that Hermione was of magical descent was still a hot topic among the Slytherins.

If it were true, it would explain why the girl was so talented at magic. No longer would it be a damn Mudblood besting Purebloods and Halfbloods in every class. No, because Granger would have had magic running in her family all along. That idea was much easier to live down for the egotistical Slytherins. If Granger wasn't a true Mudblood, that would change things. Even seeing her in the hallways would be less of an eyesore if she truly deserved her place in Hogwarts.

The rumor inevitably spread through the Hogwarts Castle by word of mouth, and eventually Hermione came across it herself. Naturally, she ridiculed the idea, and that conclusion was not at all influenced by the fact that the information was delivered to her through the most questionable sources possible.

Hermione was in the Common Room, reading her Arithmancy textbook, when the Gryffindor's resident gossip queens Lavender and Parvati bounced into the common room calling loudly, "Hermione! Hermione! Are you here?" Upon spotting the brunette, the two hurried over, each taking a crouched position on the Gryffindor rug directly in front of Hermione.

"Oh Hermione, is it true!?" Parvati gushed.

Hermione just raised a dark eyebrow at their direction. Lounged on the comfortable red arm chair in front of the fireplace, all she wanted to do was enjoy her reading in peace. She had a dull expression on her face, not at all excited to hear what the two had to say.

"Is what true?" she asked flatly, keeping her eyes on the page of her book, trying to send the vibe that she was clearly not interested in partaking in their latest gossip. At the two girls' outburst, Harry and Ron looked over curiously from their game of chess. They were still playing, but now one ear was trained onto the girls' conversation.

Lavender gasped dramatically, hands covering her mouth. She looked as if Christmas had come early. "You mean, you don't know?" Her brown eyes bulged out and when she turned to looked at Parvati, they both squealed simultaneously, clasping their hands together.

Hermione rolled her eyes before looking at them. "Do I look like someone that goes around searching for juicy gossip? Go on, tell me what it is. " She urged them to 'get on with it' by making circular motions with her hand. "The faster you ask me, the sooner I can get back to my book."

Lavender peered over to sneak a peek at what Hermione was reading. What could she be reading that was more interesting than what she had to say? Lavender frowned when her eyes were met with the dense text on the page. Lavender looked confused and she thought out loud, "But… there's no pictures."

Hermione chortled at her ridiculous comment. "I did say I was reading a book, not _Witch Weekly_ , Lavender. Now what were you asking me? Is _what_ true?"

Finally remember their purpose for seeking Hermione out, Lavender excitedly blurted out, "There's an on-going rumor that I heard from Justin who heard from a Ravenclaw fifth year who's friends with Tracey Davis who said that Davis said that the Slytherins think that you're a Pureblood!"

"Well, or at least a Halfblood." Parvati hastily added.

They looked at Hermione expectantly. There was a pregnant pause, during which the girls traded blinks with each other, before Hermione snorted unattractively and she burst out laughing.

Both girls' expressions fell. "So it's not true?" Lavender asked dejectedly.

"Of course not! That's the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard!" Hermione said finally, wiping a tear away. "How did they even come to that conclusion? I am definitely born from and raised by Muggle parents."

"Well, your blood _is_ red." Parvati pointed out. It took only a second for the pieces to click in Hermione's head.

 _Oh_. _It was because of that._

Hermione absentmindedly glanced down at her bandaged left hand. The cut was still a little sore from her little display after Buckbeak attacked Malfoy. "And my blood being red is supposed to prove something?" Hermione inquired. She closed her book and tucked it at her side, crossing her legs one over the other.

"Well, I mean, Muggles are called, erm -" Lavender shot her a hastily apologetic look, "excuse my using the term, but they're called MUD-bloods for a reason, aren't they?"

Behind them, Harry coughed to make his presence known. Lavender and Parvati turned around.

"I hate to break it to you, but a Muggle's blood is red. Crimson red. It only turns brown when the blood is exposed to air and dries out."

Parvati and Lavender turned to look at Harry, they looked surprised with their jaws slightly agape.

The redhead sitting across from Harry leaned in over the chessboard, looking intrigued. "Is that right?" Ron asked.

Hermione dropped her arms by her side, an appalled look marring her features. "Ron! Don't tell me you're that ignorant as well! Did you think my blood was brown too before you saw it the other day?"

"Well," Ron explained sheepishly, "It never occurred to me is all. Wizards don't really talk about these things." He considered holding his tongue on what he said next, but in the end he decided to be truthful to his best friend. "You'll find that most Wizards will believe that only Purebloods and Halfbloods have red blood."

Crossing her arms across her chest to show disapproval, Hermione huffed indignantly before reprimanding them crossly, "You wizards are so misled by this derogatory term, which really is misnomer of astronomic proportions. I'll have you know that we don't deserve all this hate and injustice. We're just trying to live our lives just like you lot that are apparently more privilege just because you're born into a Wizarding family at birth. This is just wrong. No child has a choice as to which family they were born into."

Hermione was displeased to say the least. This was blatant prejudice towards a whole group of people!

Wizards were great at many things, but when it came to anything that had to do with Muggles, things would always get heated quickly and their understanding of them was inaccurate on so many levels. Looks like the scars from the past run so deep that even after many generations, wizards were still not so forgiving as to change their perception of Muggleborns. On top of that, no one really bothers to spread awareness at all!

Hermione was determined to change this and she would start with her Housemates.

With a determined look on her face, she looked around the Common Room and spotted Colin Creevey, a Muggleborn like her. "Hey Colin!" She called over.

The boy looked up from where he was sitting. He was busy cleaning his camera. "Yes, Hermione?" he stuttered slightly. Harry Potter's best friend was asking him a question!

"What color is your blood?"

"Um… red?" he replied in tone and a look that implied ' _obviously_ ', even though he didn't say it out loud.

Lavender and Parvati's mouth formed a small 'O'.

Hermione gave them a pointed look, "Go ask more Muggleborns. We can't all be Purebloods or Halfbloods now can we?"

* * *

"Ughh! That Mudblood bitch! I want to wring her neck!"

Daphne happened to come out of her room when the madly pacing Pansy made her outburst, and so she stopped to join her friends in the Common Room. She leaned against the couch that Theo was lounging on. Theo was digging through a box of Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans, popping the good ones in his mouth while flinging the questionable ones over at the first years.

"Is that even a true statement anymore, Pansy? Rumor has it, she's not one" she pointed out with a smug look. Turning towards Blaise, she asked. "Zabini, you were there. Was her blood really just like ours?"

"Positive." Blaise replied. He nodded towards the necklace on Daphne's neck. "As pure and red as those rubies on your neck."

Draco scoffed. "She can't be a Pureblood."

Pansy jumped onto the seat next to Draco and looked at him with admiration in her eyes. The admiration in her eyes literally sparkled, and Draco forced himself to keep a straight face, rather than cringing. "You don't believe it either, right, Draco?"

Pansy practically purred his name and he couldn't help it then. He cringed and leaned away from her, propping his head on his left hand, while his right was still in a sling, resting on top of his chest.

Well, he knew for a fact that Granger was a Pureblood, but Father asked him to keep it a secret. Instead agreeing with Pansy's comment, he said smoothly with a smirk that he knew would provoke Pansy, "You know what that means though, Pans. You, and heck, WE were all wrong about the color of their blood."

Pansy lips immediately curled into a frown and she looked more conflicted than ever. She can't be wrong. She hated being wrong!

Blaise observed Draco silently, resting his head sideways on his folded arms. The corner of Draco's mouth was tugged up on one side, and it looked like he was having fun riling Pansy up.

"Mate, you're certainly enjoying this far too much. I'd thought you'd take a stronger stance backing Pans on this."

A glint flashed before Draco's eyes but it was gone so fast that Blaise wasn't sure if it had been there or not.

"I know! That's not right." Pansy whined, tugging on Draco's arm like a petulant child nagging for another piece of candy. "Dracoooo, you're supposed to be on my side. Your like my boy-"

"Nope. Just friend." Draco said, cutting her sentence off completely.

Pansy pouted. "But -" She clung on to Draco's sleeve a little harder.

"Pansy." Draco gave her a warning look. "Friend. Nothing more, nothing less." Pansy looked like she was about to cry. Draco let out a long sigh and ran his fingers through his hair.

This always happens with Pansy. She gets upset, and he finds the need to console her because well, he was telling the truth, he did consider her a friend and quite frankly, he didn't have that many close friends that he cared about.

"Pans, I don't know what your parents are telling you behind my back, but I won't tolerate anyone making decisions for me."

"I know." she whispered into his shoulder.

"And you should also know already that the more you try to force it, you're pushing me farther away."

"I know." she repeated again.

Her face was still contorted. She had just been friend-zoned by her crush, the great, perfect, Draco Malfoy. Her mind was reeling, she needed a distraction. Any sort of distraction.

Pansy wasn't silent for very long before she stood up suddenly. "Crabbe, Goyle. Come with me. I need your help proving this once and for all." She looked around at the others, "You guys can come with me if you'd like."

Daphne and Theo looked at each other and shrugged. "We'll come with you." Theo said.

Pansy looked towards Draco and Blaise. "How about you two?"

Blaise stretched and made himself even more comfortable in his armchair. "Sorry, Pans, I'm going to sit this one out." He faked a yawn. "I'm ttt-tired."

Draco snorted lightly at Blaise's lame excuse. "I'll stay here with Blaise." He said and went for an apologetic tone. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Blaise raising an eyebrow at him, but held his tongue. Draco then pointed at his arm. "You know how my arm is, I don't think I'll be of any help."

Pansy nodded understandingly. "Of course, Draco." She groaned aggravatedly and stomped her foot. "Ugh, that stupid Hippogriff. That monster should be slaughtered." She turned to the others. "Come on guys, let's go."

After Pansy lead the group away and out of the Common Room, Blaise finally spoke, and Draco didn't miss the snarkiness in his tone. "Great excuse, Draco. You're just milking it now. Didn't you get Potthead and Weaslbee to chop up your potions ingredients today?"

Draco nodded and laughed. "Those fools got played."

"But really though, Draco, I would have thought you'd be more riled up about this rumor. " Blaise commented nonchalantly, but Draco knew his best friend was cleverly prying for information. Blaise was probably the nosiest of his friends, but he had always been the most subtle when collecting information.

Maintaining his features as to not give anything away, Draco replied calmly and with a shrug, "Hey, it's not my reputation on the line. I wasn't the one picking a fight with Granger."

Draco glanced over at Blaise and wasn't sure that his best friend was buying his explanation. Blaise was still observing him with a calculated look. He needed to take it up a notch to give the impression that nothing has changed between how he felt about Granger. "Besides," Draco sneered, "no matter what color her blood is, she's just as repulsive to me. That will never change."

* * *

The next day, the Slytherins and the Gryffindors had Defense Against Dark Arts together. Though the DADA professor dressed like a slob, Draco will admit that his classes were enjoyable and mentally stimulating.

When the students shuffled in, Draco saw brown curls storming their way from the corner of his eye, and she looked absolutely furious.

"Pansy!" she hissed when she came within earshot. "How could you do that to Colin Creevy?"

The Slytherin girl had an amused look plastered on her face and examined her cuticles. "I don't know what you're talking about, Mudblood."

"You cut his finger just to see if he would bleed brown. Happy now? For the record, you only succeeded in proving yourself _wrong_. Does it really matter _that_ much to you, what color our blood is? Isn't the label "Mudblood" enough to segregate us Muggleborns already? What more do you _want_?"

Pansy didn't answer her, but Draco knew her answer. In fact, all respectable Purebloods were bred to have the _same_ answer.

They want them gone from their Wizarding world. Period.

It was the Muggles that first drove wizards to hide themselves and create the Wizarding society. So who labeled whom first? Who was the first to wage war between wizards and muggles? It certainly was not the Dark Lord. It was the muggles themselves. How could they stand their ground, to see these Mudbloods come into their sacred society as if they belonged there? Mudbloods were akin to the most vile of vermin or pests and were destroying what's left of the Wizarding legacy in their wake, tainting their society with more Halfbloods. If the Mudbloods would just go back to where they came from, then they wouldn't have this problem to begin with.

And was Granger stupid? Brightest witch of their age his arse. Of course blood purity mattered. This was all they've ever known. It was their identity, and it was much easier to comply with it rather than challenge it.

To challenge it meant going against your ideals and your family, and that simply wasn't an option for them. To challenge their upbringing would be going against many of the most powerful Purebloods. They would be disowned before they could even blink, isolated, and galleon-less.

No, it was better to exile the people that you don't care for than to be exiled by those who claim to love and care for you. It was simple, and it made sense. Self-preservation was their mantra.

"Granger, don't go accusing people." Pansy's eyes narrowed at Hermione. "Get this straight, Creevy admitted to Snape himself that he had accidentally hurt himself."

"Only because your two overgrown gorillas were threatening him while standing behind Snape's back!" Hermione retorted.

Draco sneered. "Well that's Creevy's problem then, Granger. He's the one that didn't have the courage to tell it like it is. It's on the records that Pansy had nothing to do with it and nothing will change even if you come crying to us."

Hermione glared at the blonde. "You're such a prat, Malfoy. I'll get you back for this." she spat, and turned away with a huff.

Draco watched her joining the other two of the Golden Trio just as Professor Lupin walked in.

Professor Lupin was oblivious to the tension in the room between the two Houses, and with a clap of his hand to get the students' attention, he just hoped right into the lesson like any ordinary day.

"We'll be working with Boggarts today," he said with a smile.

* * *

The class saw a plethora of things that scared their classmates: Professor Snape, spiders, clowns, snakes… this was the most amusing class that they've had all year.

It was then Draco's turn with the Boggart, and Draco walked over with what could only be described as swagger in his step. Even with his arm bandaged and in a sling, the Slytherin still maintained his airy, pompous, poise. The cheers from the Slytherins made the Gryffindors roll their eyes and crossed their arms.

"Spell the boggart good!" Blaise said and gave Draco a hearty slap on the back. Draco replied with a his trademark smirk, pulled out his wand with his left hand, tossed it up in the air, and caught it easily again.

He looked so sure of himself, twirling his wand between his fingers and it drove the Slytherin girls wild. Mind you, this was his non-dominant hand, and his dexterity with it was, admittedly, impressive.

Theo agreed, "Show him what you got Draco."

Standing off to the side with her hand crossed over her chest and her weight resting on one hip, Hermione looked irritated at all the attention that Malfoy was getting from his House. They were fawning over him!

"Look at Parkinson," Harry whispered next to her, "she's practically drooling over him."

"Yea, like she's never seen a bloke with a wand before." Ron muttered.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "You know how Slytherins like to stroke each other's ego's. It's pathetic if you ask me. Just watch, I'll bring Malfoy down a notch or two. I'll consider it payback for Colin."

"How will you do that exactly?" Ron asked. Harry nodded, looking intrigued.

"Just you watch," Hermione said, her lips curling into a mysterious smile.

Everyone shushed each other as Draco took his position. He appeared to be calm and collected. The look on his face could only be described as a snooty Pureblood brat who was way too confident in his skills. But more specifically, his Occlumency skills.

As Draco stood in front of the Boggart, he had cleared his mind from all thoughts. He was determined to outsmart the Boggart with his Occlumency talent.

And it was working.

The Boggart shifted from the last form, a rattlesnake, into a blurry form. It was a curious object, like a dense, hazy, grey fog that hovered in the space in front of Draco. The fog was quite dense, but not enough to make it completely opaque, and one could see the shadows of the things that were behind the haze.

Draco has been through enough Legilimency training to know that the Boggart was trying to pry inside his head to pick up on what he feared most. As he layered more walls to strengthen his defense, he felt the Boggart clawing desperately against it, to find any crack, any weakness in his defense to slip through. When the prodding didn't work, the Boggart inside his mind became angry and threw itself against the wall. This all but provided a uncomfortable stinging sensation inside Draco's head. The Boggart was adept at entering any unsuspecting mind, but anyone with proper Legilimency training should be able to prevent it from finding out their fear.

"Merlin's beard," Professor Lupin breathed, "That might very well be the Boggarts true form! How are you doing it, Mr. Malfoy?"

"Has it not occurred to you that I'm not afraid of anything?" Draco asked coolly and turned to smirked at the Professor.

But that was his mistake.

While Draco was doing well with his Legilimency training, he still could only do it under immense concentration, and his replying to Professor Lupin was enough to break his concentration.

When Draco turned his attention back to the Boggart, realization, and then fear quickly flashed across his eyes.

"Shit." he hissed, and trained his wand at the Boggart. It was too late. The Boggart collapsed into itself, and was taking form.

* * *

The fog collated in something tangible, something that appeared to be a person. The Boggart soon transformed into a young man, a very attractive young man, if all the squeals and murmurs from the surrounding girls were of any indication.

He was tall, no older than eighteen, with pale skin, jet black hair, and dark eyes that held mysterious depth.

Only few in the room could recognize him. Harry tugged on Hermione's sleeve and she leaned in.

"That's Tom Riddle." he whispered.

Hermione gasped, "No way, you mean… he's…" Her voice trailed off, but Harry nodded, to confirm her suspicions.

Standing in front of them was none other than the young Lord Voldemort. Draco stood rooted to the spot, and what little color he had on his complexion was drained from his face.

The young Tom Riddle opened his mouth and started talking, but the words from his mouth only came out in long and short rhythmic hisses. Instantly, the whole room felt a chill up their spine. Some of the students covered their ears with their hands to block out the eerie sounds coming from the man's mouth.

Harry's eyes flashed dangerously before the confusion and anger set in. In four long strides, he was in front of Malfoy and he grabbed a fistful of Draco's shirt front and pulled him close. "What in the _bloody hell_ is the meaning of this." he hissed to the startled Malfoy.

 _You have the power and the will to be great._

 _Come._

 _Come join me, child._

 _Together we will be one…_

 _and one will conquer all._

* * *

A/N: Hello, as you can tell from the title, this will be Part 1 of 2 parts. The chapter was getting too long for me to manage while balancing my work schedule, so the rest of the lesson, along with Hermione's Boggart experience will follow in the next installment.

Thank you all for the support and showing your appreciation for the last chapter. The response made me so happy! To reply to some unsigned guest comments in a summarized format: 1) Blood theory to come during their "Christmas" time frame. 2) I'm definitely going to try to weave the adults back into the story as well! 3) Definitely trying to keep this story 'fresh' with plot twists, so subscribe if you haven't already!

Comments, concerns, compliments, complaints? Push that button and leave a review. I'd love to hear from you. Take care.

~Cookie


	25. Chapter 25

**Chapter Twenty-Five: Fears Unraveled Pt 2**

"What in the _bloody hell_ is the meaning of this." Harry hissed dangerously. He still had a strong grip on Draco's shirt-front.

Grey eyes flicked down coolly to assess the situation and Draco grimaced inwardly. The way Potter has the fabric clutched in his hold would surely leave wrinkles. That son of a damn Mudblood. Not to mention his nemesis was too damn _close_ to him for comfort. The two of them were in such close proximity that Draco could feel Harry's angry breath on him.

Draco turned his head and gave one more quick glance at Tom Riddle behind him. The hissing sounds were still coming from his lips, and then it hit him. He finally realized that those sounds were not random hisses, Tom must be speaking in Parseltongue, the language of serpents. It would make sense, since Potter was the only one in the room that could understand the language.

That freak. Potter thinks he's all that just because he's 'The Chosen One'. And here _he_ was, in the dark and not even understanding why Potter was so angry with him or what that monster was saying with all his hissing.

Draco narrowed his eyes down at Harry. Draco had grown over summer and was now a few inches taller than Harry. Potter didn't scare him, no matter how imposing he tried to appear, even if he were on his tippy toes. The startled expression from earlier was no longer to be seen on his features, and returned in its stead was his customary scowl.

"Get your filthy paws of me," he growled lowly. Roughly, he grabbed both of Harry's wrists and flung him aside forcefully. The scorn in his eyes spoke volumes as to how much he despised the boy-that-just-won't-die. To top it off, Draco followed up by straightening his clothes and made a show of brushing off the places where Harry had touched him.

Harry, being caught off balanced, sprawled forward and landed on the ground on all fours on his knees and elbows. He let out an 'omph' as he contacted the stone floor, getting a little bit of his breath knocked out of him. He then tried to scramble up a little too quickly, and the blood rushed to his head all at once, making him disoriented and his surroundings blurred and unfocused.

He shook his head and looked forward, his eyes latched on to the leather shoes in front of him as things came into focus again.

In the back of his head, Harry vaguely heard Professor Lupin call out, "Malfoy! Potter! Enough!" and then with a little more urgency in the Professor's voice, "Harry, get away from there!"

Harry was still confused and dazed as he looked up and soon connected with Tom Riddles eyes. Tom said again in Parseltongue, _Together we will be one…_ But the image of Tom had begun to warp and the rest of his sentence trailed off as the Boggart transformed.

Harry heard the reactions from the class first, and there were sharp gasps and several students even screamed.

"Dementor! Dementor!"

"It's a Dementor!"

* * *

Where Tom was standing moments before was replaced with a looming, cloaked figure, its hood covering its face as it hovered ominously above Harry. To Harry's horror, it bent closer and closer down to him, and a chill ran down his spine that froze his very core. The room suddenly felt cold, so cold, and he was all alone.

He felt this before, that day on the Hogwarts Express, and he knew what was next.

The screams.

Oh gods, the woman was screaming. No, not this again. He needed to get out. He need to escape.

Someone, anyone, get him out of there. Help…anyone…

Hermione watched in dismay as Harry, who was rooted at the spot from his fall, appeared at first transfixed at the sight of the Dementor, before all color drained from his face and his face looked tormented. Within seconds, he was curled into fetal position, holding his head, muttering for help, to make it all stop.

Reacting even faster than Professor Lupin, who was trying to push past a few students from where he was standing, she rushed forward, shoving Malfoy aside in the process and jumped over Harry's crumpled form to put herself between Harry and the Dementor. As she leaped over Harry, she whipped out her wand from its holster in one fluid motion and when she landed on her feet, she was in a combat stance, with her wand pointed forwards towards the Dementor.

The second she was in front of Harry, the Dementor faded away and fizzled out. It was transforming again.

* * *

The Boggart was shifting again, and it appeared to be a person, since the figure materializing had both feet firmly planted on the ground.

"All hell," Seamus whispered to Dean, "it better not be You-Know-Who. If it were, I'd be telling me Mam that my classmates are disturbed and to get me transferred outta here."

"You got that right." Dean murmured, "But look, it's got to be transforming to another student. It's got the Hogwarts cloak."

The figure was indeed wearing a Hogwarts cloak and upon further inspection, a green and silver tie…

Slytherin.

The girls yelped and squealed again.

Draco's mouth dropped opened.

"You've got to be kidding me." Blaise mouthed and nudged his best friend in the side.

"Bloody hell…" Ron cursed, he was now by Harry's side, helping him move his weak body out of the way.

Standing tall and proud was an immaculate Draco Malfoy.

And he looked good.

* * *

Draco was at a loss for words. That was him alright, looking aristocratically delicious.

The Boggart turned into _him._

Was Granger really afraid of him? He didn't know _what_ to feel besides being surprised at the moment.

Shouldn't he feel flattered?

He glanced at Granger. She had a slightly stern, but bored expression on her face. What was she playing at? She doesn't look afraid at all. Was it all a front?

Suddenly, Boggart Draco's demeanor changed completely upon spotting Hermione. Its handsome face curled into a sneer and there was pure hatred in its eyes. Draco was slightly taken aback at how unbecoming he looked with that attitude. He didn't realize that he looked so… vile, ruthless, and downright evil when he spoke like that.

"Studying again? You filthy Mudblood." it spat venomously. "It's pitiful that you have to study ten times as hard to make up the magic that you lack in your blood."

Hermione was not good at all at hiding her expressions, and Draco caught the hurt look that fleetingly passed her features before rage took over and she icily shouted _'Riddikulus'._

Instantaneously, Boggart Draco spun in a whirl of colors and reappeared couching low and hunched over on the ground.

Draco silently wished to never see this sight again.

Boggart Draco was a far cry from the pristine version of himself just a few moments ago.

Dressed in an old, grimy and battered robe that has definitely seen better days, Boggart Draco was rattling an old mug in his pasty, bony hands, and the mug couldn't have had more than a few knuts judging from the light sound. His head hung low, his eyes hollow and expressionless, they were the eyes of one that was clearly dishearten with the world, ready to give up on life.

The bitter taste of bile quickly rose to Draco's throat, he was so angry. He gritted his teeth so hard that his jaw was hurting. He started to make a move for the witch but he felt an arm firmly tugging him back.

It was Blaise. "Keep your cool, mate. I get that you're angry, but this is a classroom. If you want to beat the shit out of her, do it later, out of sight." he said warningly.

The room was silent for a long minute, before the laughter broke loose.

The majority of the students in the room burst out laughing, with the Gryffindors guffawing the loudest. In no time, the Boggart Draco shuffled backwards, eyes finally alive and ignited by fear but before it burst into a million shimmering particles, it did something quite unremarkably human.

It smiled.

It was a bitter smile, a smile of relief. Relief that the torment that it was suffering under that situation would finally be over.

Hermione felt a pang in her heart. Her wand arm fell limp by her side and a moment of unadulterated sadness coursed through her. She hung her head low and thankfully her wild mane of hair was kept down today which helped shield her face.

* * *

"Erm, well done, Miss Granger." Professor Lupin said, his voice tight and his face serious. "Twenty points to Gryffindor."

Then he knelt down and put an arm around Harry and observed him. The boy was shaken, a little pale, but he would be fine. Wandlessly, he summoned some chocolate from a drawer in his desk, and pushed it into Harry's hands.

"Eat this," he said gently, and Harry nodded meekly.

He looked up again to address the class. With a relieved sigh, he said, "Good job today, Class. Remember, this is a safe environment-" he paused and changed to a stern, warning tone, "-no one is to divulge into what they have saw in this classroom unless they have consent. If I find out that anyone is using this information to make your classmates feel bad, House Points will be taken off."

The students looked around at each other and no one moved until he barked out, "Class dismissed!"

The rest of the class started shuffling out of the class room while Hermione and Ron stayed behind to help Harry up.

"Will he be okay?" Hermione asked, biting her lip from uncertainty. Harry still looked awfully pale, even after a few bites of chocolate. He was still weak at the knees and she and Ron helped him onto a chair.

"He'll be fine," Professor Lupin replied, "but as a precaution, I'll escort him to the infirmary. Don't you both worry. Go back to your Common Room. I'll take care of things here."

Ron and Hermione nodded and walked out of the classroom after one last look reluctant look at Harry.

The pair quickened their pace in the hallway heading in the direction of their Common Room. The rest of the Gryffindors were not too far ahead.

Ron turned towards Hermione. "Is Malfoy really your biggest fear?" he asked in an unbelieving tone.

Draco and Blaise, who were trailing behind the rest of the Slytherins, happened to be in earshot. Upon hearing his name, Draco's ears perked up and he kept his ear trained on the conversation between Weasley and Granger.

Hermione spotted Malfoy's blonde head a few paces in front of them and replied in a clipped tone. "Of course not, Ronald. Me, scared of that inbred albino?" She intentionally spoke a little more loudly than usual, hoping that Malfoy would hear her. "Most definitely not. Maybe I'm concerned about my safety when he gangs up on me with his cronies, but I'm hardly afraid of him."

Hermione couldn't see him, but if she could, she would've seen a set of pale eyebrows shooting up towards his hairline at her confession. Draco fists clenched together. He was sure her words were intended as a verbal attack.

Hermione continued. "I've done my research on boggarts already, as you can tell. Did some reading ahead during the summer. A boggart projects the immediate fear that you have in your mind when you confront it." She shrugged and said easily, "I just tricked it into believing that it was Malfoy. Simple really." She craned her neck a little bit to get better vision of Malfoy. "You reckon I embarrassed him?"

Ron laughed, "Pft. Absolutely! You should've seen his face! He was humiliated! You're brilliant, Hermione. That was the best payback. Blimey…I don't think I can ever get the image of ratty, tatty, beggar Malfoy out of my head."

Hermione cracked a triumphant smile on her face. "Good. I'm sick of letting the Purebloods walk all over us. If anyone of them tries to hurt me or my friends, I _will_ fight back."

"That's why you're amazing, Hermione." Ron commented, causing a slight blush to creep up her cheeks. Hermione turned away from Ron and her eyes trailed downward, before looking up straight-ahead again.

And Draco choose that moment to turn around and meet Hermione's eyes. His lips had moved, but Hermione had no idea what he said.

Hermione froze, and it was like the world had stopped. The moment her warm honey-brown colored orbs met his cool quicksilver ones, her bottom lip relaxed and dropped down slightly. The emotions conveyed in his eyes were intense. Emotions were swirling in his irises like molten silver, it made looking into his eyes more mesmerizing than those Muggle kaleidoscopes that she was so captivated by as a child.

The moment, however, was brief and the people around her started walking again. Hermione didn't have the time to pause and wonder whether the moment was one that was shared by both herself and Malfoy, or if it was all part of her imagination. But one thing is for certain, Malfoy was still staring intently at her, but there was an odd look on his face… it made absolutely no sense to Hermione, but it looked to her as if he had a revelation of some sort.

Hermione laughed inwardly to break the nervous tension and she mustered a smirk at Malfoy's direction, silently questioning him. She will _not_ let him have the satisfaction of affecting her.

Draco returned with a scowl that said it all, and she wasn't surprised when he mouth the words, "I hate you." Actually, it had left her strangely satisfied, since the feeling was mutual.

When Draco turned on his heel and continued walking, he heard Blaise chuckle besides him.

"What'd you say to her?"

"I said that I hate her." Draco muttered in reply.

"You hate her." Blaise echoed. Draco could tell that Blaise was grinning furiously from his amused tone, even without looking at him.

"You know, Granger is an interesting one." The Italian said after a long pause. "She's intelligent _and_ feisty." And as an afterthought, he concluded quietly, "I think I might grow to like her."

Draco's head whipped to his left and gave Blaise an appalled look. "You've got to be joking."

As his reply, Blaise wriggled his eyebrows playfully. "Do I look like I'm joking?"

"We're going to need to talk about this, mate."

"What!? Why?" Blaise replied with an exaggerated pout.

"You bloody know why."

* * *

 _ **A/N: Thanks for patiently waiting for this installment. Did anyone guess Hermione's boggart correctlyly? Hope that was a nice twist and shows you how bright our Hermione can be.**_

 _ **Christmas will be up next! Hermione will be receiving a gift from an unknown person. Starting to weave in some teenage hormones as well. I'm nervous!**_

 _ **Appreciate the readers that added this story to their alerts and favorites. Special thanks for reviewers Guest "T", Grovek26, JuliSt, shiningarmourica, mega700201, sofisamu, Royal Dansk, and Vaneesa85.**_

 _ **Make my day and leave a review ;)**_

 _ **Take care,**_

 _ **~Cookie**_


	26. Chapter 26

**Chapter Twenty-Six: Study Buddy**

The happy little tune that Blaise was humming as he tucked the ends of his button-down shirt loosely into his trousers did little to diffuse the stagnant atmosphere in the room of his shared Slytherin third year boy's dormitory.

Blaise felt grey eyes following him as he made his way back and forth between his four poster bed, his closet, and the shared bathroom to get ready for what Draco annoyingly referred to as his "date". Blaise was sure that every movement of his was being watched, even without turning around to give any attention to his dear roommate. But Draco's incessant and unwanted attention was certainly making him uneasy. After all, who liked to be watched while changing?

After fully dressing himself, Blaise stepped away from his bed to stand in front of the full length mirror next to his bed. He observed the reflection before him critically, and frowned at the question before him.

"Hm… one button or two..." Blaise muttered, fiddling with the buttons at his collar. After a few seconds of unbuttoning and re-buttoning, Blaise ended up deciding to forgo both buttons. It looked more relaxed and casual. Again, he reminded himself, this was _NOT_ a date.

A snort sounded across the room, breaking his train of thought. From the way the mirror was positioned, Blaise was able to sneak a glance at Draco whose bed was directly across from the face of his mirror.

Draco was lounging on his lavishly dressed bed, supported by plush pillows, playing with a practice snitch. Miraculously, as if having a finely tuned sensor, Draco was able to dart his eyes back towards the snitch just as Blaise flicked his eyes towards him using the reflection of the mirror. The snitch darted left and right above Draco's head, but before it flew past his arm's reach, Draco reached out and snatched it at the last moment.

Fed up, Blaise spun around to face Draco, an arm resting on his hip. There was a damn _hippogriff_ in the room and it would only drive him nuts if he didn't address it.

Now that Blaise was fully facing the blonde, and giving him all of his undivided attention, Draco need not be discreet anymore. Draco's eyes narrowed and examined Blaise up and down. "Sweet Salazar, you finally ready for your _date_?" After he uttered the words, Draco immediately bit his tongue and his brows furrowed slightly, just a tiny bit concerned. He didn't sound jealous just now, did he?

After an eye roll and a long exhale, Blaise replied, "For Merlin's sake, it's not a 'date'. Will you stop trying to make it one?"

Draco was quick with his rebuttal. "I don't believe you," he retorted coolly. "First you take _weeks_ to convince Gryffindor's little princess to be your potions partner, now you're going to the library to study with her. Slytherins and Gryffindors don't mix. I think anyone can add one and one together and figure out that there is something wrong with this scenario." He released the snitched again and adverted his eyes from the Italian in favor of the little fluttering gold ball, thus, missing Blaise's smirk. Draco was reacting just the way Blaise thought he would.

"You sound jealous." Blaise commented, satisfaction apparent, complete with the smug grin on his face. There was just enough bite to his tone, and he knew that it would make his friend immediately defensive.

Just as he predicted, Draco frowned looking affronted. Blaise didn't miss the slight hint of pink on the tip Draco's ears. It was hard to miss against his alabaster complexion.

"Me? Jealous? Of what? That's nothing to be jealous of, if fact, I question your sanity by working with… with _HER sort_." There was no mistaking what Draco was trying to insinuate with the way he emphasized the words ' _her sort'_ , but Blaise was going to make him spit it out.

Arms crossed and looking at Draco squarely in the eyes, he pushed, "You're going to have to clarify, Draco. What's 'her sort'?" He tapped his chin, "She's sort of a brilliant witch. She's sort of wickedly clever. She's sort of pretty if you ignore the fact that her hair swallows up her face, but that's not something that can't be fixed-"

Draco raised his tone then. "She's sort of a _Mudblood!_ Did you forget!?" he seethed and stared angrily at Blaise, cutting off Blaise's rambling of how 'amazing' Granger was. "You bloody happy now? Geez!" Now fully sitting up and cross-legged, he threw his hand up with a frustrated grunt before running one hand through his hair. "Do you need me to spell it out for you what you're getting yourself into?"

Ridiculous! Draco felt so betrayed by his so called best mate. A few study sessions with Granger and Blaise was so enthralled with her that her Mudblood status was suddenly overlooked. Well, Draco knew that she really a Pureblood, but to the rest of the school population, she was a Mudblood, and not just _any_ Mudblood, she was _his_ Mudblood to bully. He made it clear since first year that Granger was his prey.

Anger seemed to radiate off Draco when Blaise only shrugged nonchalantly and muttered, "Go on Mate, I'm all ears."

Draco was acting strangely. Never in all their years of friendship has Draco looked so flustered. From Blaise's vantage point, Draco appeared nervous, not to mention confused if the ever so slight darting of his eyes and the gripping of the duvet were of any indication. As if choosing the correct words to say, Draco opened his mouth and then closed it a few times before he finally settled on saying in an rehearsed tone, "Imagine what the other Purebloods will do if word got around. You'll be the laughing stock amongst our social circle, not to mention the other families will turn on you." Looking down, his bangs shielding his eyes, he quietly added, "I'm just…looking out for you, alright?" Draco almost sounded as if he was convincing himself with that last statement.

Blaise's hardened features softened to one akin to pity at Draco's words. He had a hunch as to why Draco was overreacting, but Draco's explanation of 'looking out for him' was not what he had in mind. However, Blaise was going play along with it as to refrain from bursting Draco's bubble. He replied easily, "Mate, you of all people should know I don't care about those things. Neither does my mum. She's been dating all types of men, wizards or otherwise. Let others judge. Besides, they all think I'm using her for getting high marks in Potions. But if the worst happens, we have enough galleons to last several generations, even if neither myself nor my mother are particularly fiscally responsible in our lifetimes. Even if all Pureblood Britain turns on us, we'll still be fine living in another country."

Draco stared blankly at Blaise before he took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. He was quiet, and rolled his head back, eyes locked to the vaulted ceiling beams as if they were the most interesting things in the Wizarding World at the moment. Blaise wished he had the ability to know what was going through his head.

After a long period of them both being silent, with Draco staring up the ceiling with seemingly a lot on his mind, and with Blaise observing him, Draco finally swung his legs over the edge of the bed. With another long sigh, he stood up, his features tight and shoulders tense. With his back facing Blaise, he muttered somewhat cruelly, "You do whatever you want. I don't care. If this all blows up in your face, I reserve the right to remind you that I've warned you against this."

"Sure, Mate." Blaise said cheekily. Blaise could only offer a bitter smile which was lost on Draco since the blonde walked away with his back kept towards Blaise before locking himself inside the shared bathroom.

Blaise knew Draco was torn. Compared to Draco, he had so much more liberty to do whatever he pleased whereas Draco had to live up to the cookie-cutter expectations of being a Malfoy. There was a lot of things that Draco could have, based on his family's fame, wealth, and status. But of the things he truly yearned for, there were a few that were forever out of reach, out of question. He was bred to have a predisposition to push the forbidden fruit as far away as possible.

What would it take for him to realize that there were some things that were worth taking the risk?

Blaise was willing to push his buttons hard enough to find out, because he knew that underneath the verbal spats, the name calling, the bullying, and the rivalry, something about Granger intrigued Draco ever since the their first train ride to Hogwarts, and he was pushing her away on purpose. Deep down, Draco perhaps even fancied Granger, and Blaise wasn't going to let him muck it up.

* * *

There was absolutely no reason for Blaise to feel nervous. After all, it wasn't like it was a date or anything, but he still found himself checking the tidiness of his overall appearance by looking at his reflection in the passing windows on his way to the library. He paid little thought as to _why_ he was doing it, and just attributed his actions as merely a customarily habit of a well-bred Pureblood and a young man of meticulous tastes in his outward appearances.

True to the characteristics of the creature on his House's emblem, Blaise, like many of his housemates, was able to watch his footfalls carefully enough to make his way to the back corner of the library practically undetected. Madam Pince did give him a cold stare as he walked past her, but he frequented the library enough these past few weeks to study with Hermione that the Hogwarts resident Librarian knew that he wouldn't maim her precious tomes in any way. In actuality, Madam Pince trusted Hermione to heavily reprimand Blaise if he dared damage a book.

"Aherm." Blaise cleared his throat lightly to announce his arrival. Hermione was so absorbed in her reading that she hadn't notice. Slightly startled, she looked up and commented, "Oh! It's you, Zabini. I didn't think you'd actually show up. We usually don't study this late together."

Blaise figured as much by Hermione's look of surprise and he pretended to be offended.

"How many lessons did it take before you actually let me be your Potion partner? I wouldn't even miss this even for the World Cup." He deposited his book bag on the table and sat himself down in the seat across from Hermione. "Actually, I lied, I wouldn't want to miss seeing World Cup." Blaise amended, "But you understand right? We blokes are crazy about Quidditch."

Hermione stared. It was obvious that he wasn't going to leave any time soon and was serious about doing their Potion essay together.

"No offense but Longbottom is a lousy partner and I'm not exaggerating when I say you're the best Potion partner that I've ever had." He dramatically looked around the room back and forth before leaning in and said in a hush voice, "Don't tell Draco that. He's not a bad partner, but he doesn't believe in "division of responsibilities" like you do. He likes to do everything himself when it comes to Potions, it's his favorite subject after all. I reckon he's already jealous that I'm working with you on the Potion essay. I'm sure he wishes he had the best student in class to vet ideas with."

That brought a small smile to Hermione's lips and she chuckled, "So Malfoy is a control freak, why am I not surprised. Your secret's safe with me, Zabini."

"Hey, those are your words, not mine!" Blaise replied with a smile of his own and started to pull some parchment, quill, and ink from his bag. "So, where are you at with the essay?"

"I'm still reading through these texts, but I think I have a topic in mind." She pushed _Thirty Selected Creatures and their Magical Blood Properties_ and the Blood-Replenishing Potion section from _Advanced Potion-Making_ across the table toward Blaise.

Blaise's eyebrows shot up at the sight of the books and he let out a low whistle. "Aren't you the overachiever." Hermione gave him a look and he added quickly, "Well, just a _tiny_ bit. You have to admit to that much. Snape asked for a six feet parchment on a potion ingredient of our choice by the end of spring term and you choose 'blood' as your research topic? We haven't even used blood extensively as an ingredient yet and here you are flipping through a textbook meant for Sixth and Seventh years."

"Fine, you're right." Hermione's shoulders sagged a little. "It's a little much isn't it?"

"It's fine, Granger. Don't look so down. But, I will warn you that you won't get a word of praise from Snape on your parchment nor a pat on your back for going above and beyond what was required, so I hope you're prepared. But that aside, I wholeheartedly agree that you should choose a topic that interests you."

"Thanks, Zabini for the forewarning. What are you writing about?" Hermione asked, rather intrigued at what a 'normal' regular achieving student would write about.

"I'm going to write about Bezoars," Blaise replied with a smirk.

"Lazy arse."

* * *

 **A/N: Hello, this is Cookie. Sincerely sorry for the terrible wait. Real life had taken me down a different path which didn't allow me to write. Going to try to get back into writing now!**

 **Hope you enjoyed this chapter, I always imagined Blaise to be sort of a liaison between Hermione and Draco. So...Christmas didn't happen yet... but it will! Next chapter!**

 **Take care, love you all lots.**

 **~Cookie**


	27. Chapter 27

**Chapter Twenty-Seven: Christmas Cheer**

The weeks flew by and the holiday season was here in a blink of an eye. Snow covered the Hogwarts grounds and smoke could be seen billowing out of the chimney pipes, surely a sign of happy and lively fires dancing in the fireplaces to keep the castle toasty, even though it really was magic that did most of the work.

Breakfast had long ended and there were only half a dozen students left in the Great Hall, the students that decided to stay at Hogwarts for the Christmas holiday. Harry, of course, had to stay at Hogwarts because he had neither a place to go nor the permission from a guardian to leave Hogwarts. Hermione and Ron decided to stay as well just to keep Harry company. They also knew Harry wasn't in best of moods with Sirius Black rumored to be lurking around Hogsmeade.

"Are you sure you both want to stay here with me?" Harry asked, feeling extremely guilty. He would love nothing more than to have his best friends' company, but he knew it was at the expense of them missing quality time with their own family, and for a boy whose parents were already dead, it's a luxury that Harry could never even experience nor fathom. The holiday season always gave him a sense of longing for parental love. He couldn't rob that from his friends. After a long exhale, he kept his gaze down and focused on his hands. "It's not too late to change your minds and leave now. I'll be fine, I promise."

Hermione's brows furrowed a bit. Who was he kidding? Both Hermione and Ron knew that the Grim and Dementors have been plaguing Harry to the point where he was having trouble sleeping. He won't be fine at all.

"Oh, Harry, stop it. We've made up our minds already." Hermione said, giving his arm a light squeeze as to comfort him. "And besides, my parents are set on going on a cruise this Christmas and I, for one, am not a fan of the water." She wrinkled her nose and puckered her lips, the thought of being on potentially turbulent waters already making her stomach feel uneasy.

"I'd say it the second worst mode of transportation," she declared, "after flying of course-" She paused abruptly and sucked in her breath, her hands immediately flew to cover her mouth and her eyes quickly searched for Harry's face worriedly. As she feared, a small, bitter smile was adorned on her bespectacled friend's face. It had been the wrong thing to say, mentioning 'flying'. How could she have been so stupid! Harry fell off his broom just three weeks prior during the last Quidditch match and his beloved broom got destroyed after crashing into the Whomping Willow. He was still mourning over the loss of his trusty Nimbus 2000.

Hermione, alarmed and eager to right her wrong, signaled to Ron with her eyes and she mouthed, "Say something!"

"Y-yea!" Ron stammered, trying to think of the right words to say in this situation. Comforting someone wasn't his strong suit. "-and my mum _loved_ the idea of me staying at Hogwarts. You know what she said?" Ron added nervously, also keeping an eye on his crestfallen friend's reaction. He cleared his throat loudly and with exaggeration, catching Harry's attention. Then, in his best imitation of Mrs. Weasley's voice, though it came out quite screechy, he continued, "Thank Merlin! There'd be one less troublemaker in the house!"

The trio immediately burst into laughter, with Harry doubling over.

* * *

In the meantime, while the students that were staying behind for Christmas were in the Great Hall and being chaperoned by Professor Trelawney (Professor McGonagall thought she would be more useful there), the rest of the professors and prefects were busy at Hogsmeade station, ushering students to board the Hogwarts express. When the last student on the platform was inside the train and Hagrid bellowed 'all aboard!', the train gave three shrill whistles and started on its trek to transport students to King Cross Station.

Severus turned towards Professor Dumbledore. "We are done here, I presume?"

Professor Dumbledore's eyes twinkled with as much cheer as the holidays brought to the little town. "Yes, but the rest of the staff and I are going to grab a quick Butterbeer. You're invited as well of course, Severus."

"As pleasant as that sounds," Severus drawled, with no excitement in his voice at all, "I have places to be." He gave a slight nod as gesture of his farewell.

"Very well, Severus." Dumbledore replied in good humor. "Don't let the cold air nip you on the way back!"

"I won't," came Severus' dull reply. The potion master turned swiftly around and his long cloak swished about him. He drew his wand and disapparated with a pop back to the apparation point of castle.

With his duties for the day completed, Snape returned back to the castle and to his private quarters. Strolling over to the fireplace, he grabbed a fistful of Floo Powder and said clearly, "Malfoy Manor" and stepped right in.

When Snape came out the other end and into the Malfoy's drawing room, he found Lucius and Narcissa already waiting for him. He greeted them both and he took off his cloak.

"Pinky! Come get the cloak!" Lucius barked. With a pop, Pinky appeared with a bow at his master, accepted Snape's cloak, bowed again out of respect, before popping away. She wasted no time at all.

Snape was amused at how efficient this house elf was. It also didn't escape his observation that she was an elf that he'd never seen before. "What happened to your other one?" he asked his Slytherin brother.

The corner of Lucius's mouth twitched. "Tch- Dobby?" Lucius growled, "That blasted Harry Potter tricked me into freeing my own house elf." It irritated Lucius even more when he noticed a rare chuckle that escaped from Snape, and of course, at his expense.

"Darling, you never liked that elf anyway." Narcissa stated simply from where she sat with her ankles neatly folded one over the other. She was dressed in emerald dress robes that shimmered at her every movement. She waved off the topic with her hand. "Tell me, Severus, how much longer until Draco arrives at King Cross?"

"They just left about fifteen minutes ago. I'd say the train will arrive at King Cross in a little over an hour."

Narcissa smiled brightly at that. It was obvious that she couldn't wait to see her son, but the couple sitting before him were elegantly dressed in their indoor attire so it didn't appear that they were going to prepare to venture out to collect his godson. "How's Draco getting home?" he asked.

"Oh Wally, Draco's house elf, is already at the station waiting for him once the train arrives with a portkey. You see, Blaise and Theo will be joining us this Christmas. Usually I would love nothing more than to pick up and side-along Draco back home with me, but with two other young gentlemen in tow, it's much easier to arrange a portkey."

Severus lips pursed and he looked as if he wanted to get up and leave, right then and there, skipping the prearranged lunch with the Malfoys altogether.

"Oh, don't give me that look," Narcissa chided, "I know you see those boys every day and must get tired of all their antics, but take pity on them, Severus. It's the holidays. Blaise's mother is off on honeymoon with her newest husband and you know how Ramsey is with Theo, poor Theo come to us many times with bruises all over his arms and legs." Snape could see Narcissa's eyes welling up with tears. It must be Narcissa's motherly instinct to care for Draco's friends, after all they were all playmates ever since they were in nappies. "Ever since Theo's mother passed, Ramsey is just not right in the head." the blonde finished, her eyes glazed over and staring at a point behind Severus, clearly feeling the remorse of losing a dear friend.

"Yes, I remember her passing." Lucius sighed, "It was a hard year for the Notts. First Ramsey's wife passed due to complications during childbirth, and he lost his new born as well. That had to be devastating. Then several months after, Oswald was poisoned along with Elmar Greengrass." They hadn't brought up that topic in a long time. Lucius turned towards Severus. "That case was bizarre as hell. Never solved right?"

Severus shook his head in response. "Still a cold case. So much time has passed that I heard from Dumbledore that the Aurors gave up on the case altogether a few years ago. Labeled it internally as a one-off homicide and filed it away."

Lucius looked as though he was about to make a comment, but Narcissa cleared her throat and scolded lightly, "Let's move away from this dreary topic. You both are chasing my holiday spirit away." Then to Severus, she said, "Severus, do you have any presents to put under the tree?" She gestured towards the magnificent Douglas Fir that was twinkling in the room that Severus had paid no mind to.

The tree was huge and the star at the top almost touched the ceiling. Under the tree was an abundant amount of boxes, handsomely wrapped in the finest of wrapping paper. Some even had cartoon pictures that moved and danced along the perimeter of the present.

Severus scowled and drew a medium sized box wrapped in green and silver, his gift for Draco. The handiwork was less than perfect (he was a Potion Master, dammit!), and it stood out like a sore thumb when placed amongst Narcissa's meticulously wrapped gifts.

* * *

"Wally is so very happy to see Master Draco," the chatty house elf proclaimed and practically bounced over to the blonde, his wide ears flopping up and down and his big eyes glistening. He gave a low bow, then to Blaise and Theo, he said "Master Zabini and Master Nott, Wally is pleased to be of service to you. Mistress Narcissa said Wally is to cater to your every need during your stay at the Malfoy Manor. Wally lives to serve the Great and Noble House of Malfoy!"

"We know, Wally." Draco told the elf. "You say this every time. Do you have the portkey?"

"Yes sir!" Wally pulled the carefully wrapped portkey from under his tea cloth, placing it in Draco's hands. Draco made a mental note to ask the elf later if his makeshift clothes had pockets.

"Ready to go?" Draco asked his friends, carefully unwrapping the portkey, a shiny bauble with the Malfoy crest. After both boys nodded, Draco counted down from three and they all touched the portkey at the same time, feeling the familiar pull as they were transported to Wiltshire.

Upon arriving the Manor, Narcissa spared no time to give the boys as much affection they that they would allow. They each got hugs and a kiss on their head before she lead them from the foyer to the sitting room where Lucius and Severus were.

"Hello, father. Hello, Uncle Sev." Draco greeted the men.

Behind him, Blaise echoed with a snicker, "Hello, Uncle Sev." He thought he was only loud enough for Theo to hear him, but Snape's glare from across the room told him that he was sorely mistaken. Blaise immediately bristled and quickly cleared his throat and straightened out his act. Formally, he greeted, "Good evening, Mister Malfoy, Professor Snape." Theo did the same. "Thank you for having us over for Christmas, it was very gracious of you."

"Not a worry boys, just two extra chairs to be occupied at the dining table." the patriarch replied.

"Wally will show you up to the guest rooms." Narcissa said kindly, "Go freshen up if you'd like. Lunch will be in an hour."

The three Slytherins raced each other up the spiral stair case, continuing their earlier conversations about something inconsequential and they were laughing hysterically all the way.

When the boys were out of sight, Lucius pulled out a small box from his vest. "Before I forget," he said, gesturing the box to Severus for him to take it.

"Aww, you shouldn't have." Severus said sarcastically, receiving the box with two fingers by pinching the red satin bow, and letting it dangle from his fingertips. A dainty little note was attached to the ribbon that read, _Yours. Merry Christmas_. How obscure.

Lucius laughed, "You know, it's not for you."

"Naturally." Severus said curtly, finding the idea of receiving a Christmas gift from another grown man distasteful.

"It's for her." Lucius said casually, placing his hands over his crossed knee. "Deliver it for me when you get back to the castle. My wife and I find that it's time to return it to her. If she's as smart as I hear she is, maybe she can figure what it is and what secrets it will unlock."

Severus scowled, unhappy that that he was being used as a delivery owl. Nevertheless, he still pocketed the gift inside his robes. "Is it safe for her to find out?" the potion master asked with a frown.

"As long as she's at Hogwarts, old man Dumbledore won't let anything happen to her. She'll be safe. Besides, she won't be able to find out her true lineage just from that little trinket, I have all her legal paperwork. She'll just have a clue that there is much more to who she is than she thinks."

* * *

"Theo! You ready?" Draco and Blaise were outside and pounding on the closed doors of Theo's guest bedroom.

"Hurry up mate, or we're going downstairs first. I'm bloody starving." the Italian complained, gripping his stomach.

They heard some incoherent grumbles coming from the other side of the door before it opened to reveal a sheepish looking Theo.

Blaise noticed it first. "Woah, what happened to your hair?" he pointed out.

Draco's eyes widened and Theo just shrugged and ran a hand through his now shorter hair. But Draco realized very quickly that it only seemed shorter because what used to be straight with slightly textured waves was now a head full of soft brown curls. Each ringlet was well defined and it looked as to be pointing in whichever direction, the ringlets each having a mind of its own and can't agree on a direction.

"Forgot to pack my hair products," he mumbled, slightly abashed. "All Notts have these stubborn curls." he pointed to his hair, "We just use _Sleekeazy_ and _Frizz-be-Gone_ religiously to keep it straight ever since we start to grow hair as a little babe."

Blaise couldn't help but laugh out loud. "You know who you remind me of right now?" Draco bristled. "You look just like Granger right now. You have the same shade of uncontrollable brown hair, except she has blue eyes."

"You dolt," Draco snapped before he could stop himself. "She has honey brown eyes, just like Theo."

Blaise and Theo both smirked and each other, and Draco could feel the heat creeping up towards his cheeks, knowing that Blaise had deliberately tricked him.

"You tosser," he growled with low voice, "Don't bring her name up in my home. You know how it upsets me." He turned around to lead the way downstairs. "C'mon, let's go for lunch before Blaise faints from starvation." he huffed.

The Malfoys and their three guests had lunch in the formal dining room, though the long table where they were seated at could very well sit an upwards of twenty guests.

While only Narcissa commented on Theo's hair, the three adults all recognized the physical connection that Hermione had with the Nott family, now realizing that the curly brown locks and brown orbs were a Nott family trait.

"You look rather handsome with your hair au naturel," she insisted after Theo had asked Narcissa to help him order some hair products from his hairdresser at in Paris. Narcissa promised to have a house elf pop over in the afternoon to purchase some for him. Surprisingly, Blaise asked for some as well, and when asked, all he said with a chuckle was, 'I have a friend that can use some.'

"I reckon it will drive all the ladies crazy." she finished.

"It will drive _me_ crazy!" Theo replied, gesturing at his curls. "It's so hard to maintain without it looking frizzy. Besides, I'd rather not have the unwanted attention." Blaise and Draco smirked at each other, knowing that Theo only had eyes for their fellow Slytherin classmate, Daphne Greengrass.

After some warm tomato bisque, the elves served each an entrée of their choice and the group enjoyed their lunch merrily along with the occasional small talk.

After a lengthy discussion on Quidditch, the group went on to talk about the beast that had attacked Draco at the start of term.

"Parkinson wrote to me the just yesterday," Lucius revealed, "that he pushed the Ministry to have an official trial for that hippogriff that attacked you, Draco." He scoffed, sounding irritated, "The man made it sound as if it were _my_ will to have that trial, so the official letter issued to that oaf, er, what was his name?" Lucius couldn't remember the friendly half giant's name and just waved it off, "Anyway, the letter says the complaint was directly from me. That fool Parkinson. He thinks doing something as superfluous as this would get in my good graces. Quite the opposite."

"Darling, you know he's doing it to try to fish out an arranged marriage between his daughter and our Draco." Narcissa said matter-of-factly. The three younger Slytherins collectively cringed at the thought.

"Whatever will happen to that brute?" Draco asked, trying to steer the conversation back on topic. The prospect of himself and Pansy together never settled well with him.

Lucius shrugged, "Most likely will be put down if found guilty. To be frank, I'm not happy about the message that it sends out. Malfoy men can take a little scratch on the arm, we're not fragile little princesses like his daughter. Besides, hopefully this teaches you to hold your pride when faced with someone or something dangerous that values pride even more than yourself, Draco."

The double meaning to Lucius's warning was lost on Draco. Draco swallowed. _Death_. If found guilty, that overgrown chicken will be the first death on his hands. Gods, he hated the Parkinsons just a little more then.

The talk of the trial and perhaps even the execution of the hippogriff was not considered an appropriate meal-time topic so Narcissa was quite relieved when the topic finally changed.

"Mister Malfoy," Blaise addressed the patriarch. Lucius looked up from his braised lamb. "Professor Snape had assigned us a research assignment for our term paper. Would you mind if I borrowed some books from the Malfoy library?"

"Not at all," Lucius replied. "Feel free to take some books back to Hogwarts if you like. I understand how… lacking and limited the Hogwarts library can be. Just have Draco send it back when you're finished with it."

"Thank you so much, Mister Malfoy." Blaise replied gratefully and all too excited. Draco observed his friend curiously.

Narcissa grinned over her grilled chicken salad. "Blaise, you're thinking about schoolwork while on holiday? That's so out of character for you."

Blaise chuckled at that, but didn't comment.

"You're only bringing it up because Severus is here aren't you?" She jested.

"Merlin's me," Blaise exclaimed with both hands in the air, feigning surrender. "You got me!"

"Mister Zabini," came Severus's apathetic voice, "I look forward to scoring your parchment."

Everyone at the table could hear Blaise's audible gulp.

After lunch, the boys had a good time flying outside over the Quidditch pitch. It was snowing and there was a layer of thin snow collecting on the grass below them, but Narcissa had casted a warming charm over their clothes so the cold didn't bother them.

On their way back to the Manor, brooms in hand, Blaise turned towards Draco and asked, "Hey mate, you mind if I borrow Bubo Bubo to send some last minute gifts?"

"Yea, that's fine." He replied, it made no difference to him. With a smirk, he continued, "Some friend you are, forgetting to send your gift until Christmas eve."

"At least it's not late!" Blaise defended.

"That's right," Theo agreed. "But better late than never."

Draco couldn't tell if that comment was meant for him.

* * *

 ** _A/N: Thanks for reading! Hope you enjoyed this chapter. Sorry to cut it off here, but presents will be opened next chapter. Leave a comment if you like to take a guess._**

 ** _Take care!_**

 _ **~Cookie**_


	28. Chapter 28

**Chapter Twenty-Eight: Pretty Presents and Petty Anger**

Christmas morning, Harry Potter was rudely awaken by the sound of a woodpecker's incessant tapping. Harry groaned and burrowed himself deeper under his covers, hoping that it would help block out the sound, but unfortunately, the pecking continued. He was still groggy and with his mind clouded by a thick layer of sleep, he mumbled somewhat incoherently to his roomate, "ughhh…Ron, shut 'der blasted woodpecker up, t-tryin' to sleep here." Since when did Ron keep a woodpecker as a familiar anyway?

Ron babbled something across the room, voice cracking since it was dry from the dry night air. Then it occurred to Harry… there couldn't possibly be a woodpecker at Hogwarts. The sleepy haze lifted and he realized that no, it wasn't a woodpecker, but it was someone knocking at their door.

Concentrating on the sound, he finally heard it. "Pst…, it's me!" a quiet female voice traveled through the door. Oh, it's Hermione. Harry reached for his glasses on his nightstand and swung his leg over his four poster bed, stilling himself for a few seconds to get himself oriented. Green eyes landed on the pile of presents at the foot of his bed and his heart leapt with happiness. A wide smile involuntary blossomed on his face. Two years earlier, he would never have even _dreamed_ about receiving a decent gift for Christmas, let alone a whole pile to himself. He remembered now, the three of them had decided before bed last night to open presents together, first thing in the morning.

Harry ran a hand over his already messy bedhead to ruffle it up a little more, convincing himself that that was how he 'styled' his hair. He'd been doing it all year, and he quite liked the way it looked.

"Just a second, Hermione! I'm coming over!" He hollered across the room, effectively rousing Ron from his slumber and the ginger tossed and turned. Quickly lifting Ron's duvet to check that he was properly dressed (and yes, he was wearing pajama bottoms), Harry ran across the room to opened the door and let his best female friend in.

"Merry Christmas, Harry!" Hermione exclaimed as quietly as she could, which didn't go unnoticed by Harry.

"You know you can be as loud as you want right?" Harry pointed out, "It's only us three in the Gryffindor Tower."

"Oh that's right. Habit I suppose."

Harry moved aside so that the witch could come in, her arm full of gifts that she had received.

"Need help with that?" Harry asked as a little white box with a red bow slipped out from under her arm. With his seeker reflexes, Harry caught it before it fell to the floor.

Hermione laughed, "I should be fine now, but that little bugger almost fell out a few times while I was walking here. Thanks for catching it." She set her presents down on the floor next to Harry's bed and reached over and took the gift that fell back from Harry, returning it with the rest of the pile.

Ron made some improvement in waking up and was now sitting up on his bed, but still looking dazed. His mouth moved, tasting the morning air, before his eyes finally focused on Hermione.

"Merry Christmas and good morning, Ronald." she offered Ron a mocking smile.

"Merry Christmas, Hermione." He yawned and stretched his arms. "Sorry, you know I'm not a morning person."

"I'll say! It's already close to ten o'clock! Let's hurry and open our presents before we're late for Christmas brunch!"

Hermione wasn't sure if it was the talk of opening presents or Christmas brunch that energized Ron, but he quickly kicked off his duvet with a new found enthusiasm and rushed towards his pile of gifts.

"I have an idea," Ron said, scooping up the parcels and joining his friends on the floor. "Let's open the ones that are easy guesses first and see if we can guess who the gift came from." His hand hovered over the pile before snatching a bulky one. "I bet you this is from my mum. A sweater and minced pies."

He tore off the wrapping paper like a little kid would. "Man, maroon again…I swear she forgets which color she used for each of us in the previous year." he lifted the sweater out from the shredded mess and shrugged before putting the sweater on. Now sporting a big gold "R" across his chest, he pulled the second part of his present and it was indeed pies. "Wha'd I tell you." he said, barely getting the words out before immediately pushing one of the pies into his mouth.

"You're going to spoil brunch," Hermione scolded lightly and shaking her head. She and Harry both got a similar parcel from Mrs. Weasley, except the sweaters bore their own initials. They each enthusiastically slipped their sweaters on before reaching for the next present.

The next batch of presents were from friends. Ron received an assortment of sweets from Honeydukes from Hermione including Jelly Slugs, Fizzing Whizzbees, and Chocolate Wands while Harry received a practice snitch from her. Ron was most excited about the genuine autographed Chudley Cannons fan poster that Harry got him (which he immediately use a sticking charm and attached it proudly to his wall), and some extendable ears from his twin brothers. They all received a year subscription to the Quibbler from Luna (yay! Who wouldn't want a subscription?), and some other fun items from Ginny, Neville, and Seamus. Hermione received mostly school supplies and books from her friends, not very original, but she didn't mind. She preferred practical gifts actually. She was particularly thankful for the Sugar Quills that Neville got her, so she'd have something to nibble on rather than chewing on the ends of her writing quills, a nervous habit during class that she couldn't seem to ween off of, thus ruining many quills in the process, to her dismay.

"Alright, the best for last." Ron said when they each had one single present left to unwrap. They all stared at their gift for a moment, but the trio couldn't possibly think of a person who could have sent their last gift. All their friends and family were accounted for already from the gifts that were previously opened.

On Ron's lap was a medium sized box wrapped in light purple wrapping paper that had flecks of holographic glitter. Very flashy. In front of Harry on the ground was a large, oblong box wrapped in boring brown parchment paper tied with twine, and finally sitting on Hermione's palm was the little dainty white box with a red velvet ribbon. After looking at the other two's gift, Ron smiled smugly to himself, feeling that his gift was wrapped the best. Harry's gift looked like the sender had ran out of wrapping paper and decided that the offensive parchment paper was better than no paper at all, while Hermione's sender spent no thought on it and just tied her box closed with a simple and generic red ribbon.

"I'll go first," Ron announced, before ripping through the paper with reckless abandon. "Ohh, more chocolates!" Ron exclaimed. He brought it closer to his face for closer examination and he broke into a wide smile before giving Harry a nudge. "Mate, they look hand-made, don't they?" Hermione leaned in to take a better look. Ron was right. She supposed that the chocolates were all _meant_ to be spheres, but each certainly had a varying degree of "oval-ness" about it, highly uncharacteristic of store bought candy which are all uniform and perfectly circular.

Ron searched around the shredded paper to look for a note, but there was none. "No note…and hand-made chocolates… You know what this means?"

Harry grinned and nodded, "You got yourself a secret admirer." Hermione rolled her eyes and snorted.

Ron set the box of chocolates aside, heeding to Hermione's comment earlier about spoiling brunch. "Alright, Harry. You go next."

Harry wore a goofy smile as he lifted the long parcel and placed it on his lap. "No note as well. Good sign for me too, eh?" A gentle tug was all that was needed to untie the knot to unravel the twine. He pushed away the parchment paper and lifted the lid and his jaw dropped. "Merlin's beard… it's a broom!"

"What!?" Ron cried and immediately jumped over next to his friend to see for himself. "Cerce, it's not just any broom, Harry! It's a bloody Firebolt! The best one in the market right now!"

While the two boys were in over their heads, reveling in the sweet joy of being able to touch such a masterfully crafted broom, and talking about riding it later that afternoon, Hermione had her arms crossed and she couldn't push away the feeling of trepidation.

"Harry…" she said uneasily. She had to approach the subject carefully. The boys put the broom down with an apologetic grin.

"Ah, sorry Hermione, you still have yours to open. We can look at the Firebolt later."

"That's not…" Hermione started to say, but Ron urged her on.

"Go on, open it! Don't keep us waiting!"

She clucked her tongue and conceded, but silently telling herself that she's only tabling her concern until after this last gift was opened. Harry need to know that him receiving such an expensive broom _anonymously_ , is very suspicious.

She picked up her gift and held it close to read the little tag on the ribbon.

"Yours. Merry Christmas." She read, a bit perplexed at the short note. She added a 'hmm' and a shrug before tugging the ribbon loose and opening the lid. She gasped.

Inside was a gorgeous pendant necklace. The chain was silver, but Hermione wasn't knowledgeable with her metals so it could very well be platinum, white gold, sterling silver, or some other inexpensive metal. The chain certainly gleamed even though they had poor lighting in the room right now. The pendant itself was a gold key embellished with small round emeralds and diamonds at the intersection of every loop on the bow's design. The shaft was engraved with intricate floral patterns that were so delicate and detailed that Hermione wondered if this piece came crafted from the hands of elves. In fact, Hermione was almost sure of it when she saw the minuscule words ' _Praestat opes sapientia_ ' wrapping itself amongst the flowers. There was no way for someone to craft something so detailed without the help of magic.

Hermione was still admiring the craftsmanship when she heard Ron say, "Wow, why would anyone gift you jewelry? Not like you're the type that would like that sort of stuff."

She didn't know why, but she felt peeved by his comment. Feeling that she needed set Ron straight, she said through gritted teeth. "Since when do you know the sort of stuff that I like and not like?" That was a warning, but Ron was oblivious and he continued to talk back without filter.

"Well, you like all the boring stuff like books and stationary." Ron pointed out. Harry whacked his arm to try to get him to stop talking. Ron was quickly digging his own grave and even Harry couldn't slow him down.

"What was that for, Harry?" He rubbed the spot. "What did the tag say anyway?" Still in the dark from picking up Hermione's heightening rage, he reached over her to grabbed the ribbon. "Yours, Merry Christmas." His looked confused and asked out loud. "Who signs a note, 'Merry Christmas'?"

The girl let out an aggravated sound. "First of all, Ronald, let me inform you that while I don't actively ask for jewelry, it does not mean that I'd enjoy them any less than any other girl would. Secondly, -" she took the ribbon back from Ron and pointed at the note. "-it's not signed 'Merry Christmas'…. there is a _period_ after the word 'Yours'. ' _Yours. Period. Merry Christmas'._ " Hermione frowned and rubbed her chin in deep thought. "Though that makes no sense at all. It would imply that this necklace is mine to begin with, and whoever sent it to me anonymously is just returning it back to me."

"I think you're reading too much into it." Trying to break the tension, Harry added with a hint of humor in his voice, "Maybe you have a secret admirer too."

Hermione thought it was highly unlikely, with her blood status and her reputation, she was easily the least sought after girl at school. Not to mention, she didn't consider herself any bit attractive. She didn't have luscious hair like the Parvati twins, pretty features like Ginny, nor a sweet mouth like Lavender. Even Luna was more interesting than her, with her quirky personality.

She pushed that all to the back of her mind, she needed to get back on topic about Harry's broom.

"Harry, never mind that. We need to talk about your broom." She said seriously.

Harry got defensive then, when the conversation so suddenly pivoted to him. "What about my broom?" He asked nervously, hugging his new Firebolt to his chest. He had a feeling he knew what Hermione was going to say, and he didn't like it one bit.

With a hand rubbing her forehead, Hermione replied gently. "Harry, I don't know how else to tell you, but I think it would be a good idea to have someone take a look at that broom. At the very least, I think you need to tell Professor McGonagall about receiving it."

"What!?" Ron exclaimed, clearly appalled. "It's a Firebolt, Hermione! Harry needs it for the next Quidditch game if we want to win! McGonagall will take it from him and examine it twig by twig."

"Ron, I want us to win too, but more importantly, I want Harry safe! Merlin knows how dangerous it is already, flying several stories high. If the broom is cursed, then Harry will get hurt!"

"Why in the world would his broom be cursed?!"

"Because I think it may be _sent_ by Sirius Black!" Hermione blurted. Harry's eyes grew wide and Ron opened his mouth, then closed it, shocked by her accusation.

"Impossible," Ron said, refusing to believe it. Then he said, giving a little ground, "If you think it's dangerous, I'll test it out for him in the afternoon. I'll fly low with it and see what happens."

"NO! NO ONE is to get onto that boom until it's properly checked out!"

"Gods, Hermione! Don't get your kickers all up in a twist. Geez, what's with you today? Is it because it's anonymous? It could be from Dumbledore or Lupin."

"They're professor's Ron. Neither of them can spend that much money on a student. That's unethical. And yes, the fact that its sent anonymously makes it that much more suspicious. Remember what happened to Ginny last year? She wrote in a diary that she got without knowing its origins and got possessed by it! I'm just taking precaution so that no one will get hurt. In fact, I think you should have your chocolates cleared as well."

Ron fumed then. "Oh, so now I can't even receive anything from a secret admirer without you getting suspicious."

"That's not -"

Harry groaned loudly and put himself between his two verbally sparring friends. "You two, stop it. It's Christmas Day, let's all just take a deep breath and calm down." He gestured for them both to take a long breath in, then out. His two friends glared at each other before following Harry's prompting grudgingly. "That's it. Good. How about we drop the subject for now, forget all about it, and grab some brunch first. I think we're all a little bit hangry. Let's not let it ruin our Christmas."

Hermione let out a long sigh and gave in. "You're right, Harry. Let's discuss this later after brunch. I am hungry. I'm sorry for raising my temper."

"Yeah, that might be it." Ron admitted too, though not apologizing. "Let's go, I'm more than a bit hungry now that you mentioned it." he said, leading them out of their Common Room.

* * *

Although his friends were talking civilly to each other during brunch, Harry could tell that they were both walking on eggshells, one wrong move and they'd be arguing all over again. And as it turns out, it only took the mail delivery to tip over the balance.

There were only about a dozen students and professors at brunch, and they were spaced out between one long table. The professors were on one end, while the students were on the other, each party wanting some privacy from the other. With so few people at Hogwarts for Christmas, there were only a few owls that flew into the Great Hall to deliver the post that morning.

"Bloody hell, isn't that Malfoy's overly flashy bird? What's it doing here?"

Hermione looked up and sure enough, a large Eagle Owl was circling overhead with a large package tied to its talon. The bird was easy to spot enough, it was one of a kind and very large. If it were a regular owl, Hemione doubt that it would even be able to take off with that much cargo in tow.

"Maybe it's for Snape." Harry helpfully supplied. "He _is_ Snape's godson." But no sooner after Harry said that, the Eagle Owl swooped down and landed gracefully in front of Hermione. Hermione's eyes widened to the size of saucers.

"Um… you've got the wrong person…" Hermione murmured nervously, backing away slightly from the intimidating owl who was keen on staring at her intently, as if summing her up. "Professor Snape is up there…" her index finger pointed timidly over towards the Potion Master. The owl gave two hoots as if to disagree and flicked its head. It hobbled two steps forward until he could reach the end of Hermione's plate, eyeing the bits of chicken that was on it. It gave another short hoot, as if asking her for permission. "Go on, you may have it." Hermione gestured meekly, but at awe at how well-mannered the majestic bird was.

"That is Malfoy's owl right? It's too well-mannered to be that spoiled git's bird." Ron whispered in disbelief, reaching his hand forward towards the tag that the bird was wearing around its neck. Ron yelped and barely had time to pull his fingers back. The owl snapped its beak at him. "What do we do!?" Ron asked, holding his fingers back by his side and out of chomping range of the bird. "He's vicious!"

"Maybe you try, Hermione." Harry nudged her shoulder. "Seems like he's here to deliver something to you."

Hermione's brow furrowed from uncertainty. "I don't know… if it is Malfoy's familiar, I sure it's trained to not let muggleborns touch it." But nevertheless, Hermione summoned her Gryffindor courage and reached her hand out slowly, trying to see if the Eagle Owl would come to her. And surprisingly, he did. The owl gave an affectionate coo and pushed his head right up against Hermione's hand. Sensing no danger from the bird, Hermione finally relaxed. "Must be because I let him have my food." she told the boys, it was the only plausible explanation. She stroked the bird a few times before picking up the name pendant. It read:

 _Hi, my name is Bubo Bubo_

 _Property of Draco Malfoy_

She chuckled, "So your name is Bubo Bubo. What a sweet thing you are, even if you are Malfoy's owl." Bubo Bubo cooed loudly and even gave her a trill of affection.

"Hermione, just take the package and let it go back to where it came from." Ron said, still eyeing the bird warily. Harry nodded quickly to agree, carrying a similar distrust for the bird, and they earned themselves an evil glare from Bubo Bubo.

"Oh alright." Hermione said finally, and untied the large bundle from its talons. She picked up a larger piece of chicken from her plate and offered it to the owl along with some water from her goblet. "I'm sure you have a long trip back. Thank you." She told him. Bubo Bubo gave her a final squawk, took the chicken in its beak, before taking off.

"What the hell did Malfoy send over? It's not going to explode is it?" Hermione gave Ron a look. She lifted the parcel and saw that there was a tag on it. A nice change from the three anonymous gifts that put the trio in their sour mood all through brunch.

"Malfoy has no reason to send me anything unless he's got amnesia and I'm not longer the person on his 'most hated' list." Her brows shot up. "It's from Zabini. He must of borrowed Malfoy's owl to send me a Christmas present." She opened the box and smiled at the contents. Inside were four ancient looking books as well as some hair care products that look quite expensive, if the French on the designer bottles were of any indication. There was a note enclosed that read:

 _'Merry X'mas, Granger._

 _Hopefully Draco's owl didn't startle you too much. Bubo Bubo can be aggressive to those that he considers to be Draco's enemy._

 _Were you surprised to receive something from me? I didn't really plan to. It's last minute, I swear!_

 _So…, I don't think our student access will allow you to find any book in the library that would satisfy your beautiful curiosity and thirst to overachieve on Snape's essay. I'm hoping these text from the Malfoy library will help. Return these back to me when you're done, and don't let Draco know. He would kill me if he found out and then you'll be stuck with Longbottom as your Potion partner again._

 _I also sent some hair products that would tame your hair. Before you lash out at me, hear me out. As your most attentive Potions partner, I've seen you caution yourself from the cauldron flames and there were many a times that I would worry that your wild hair would get licked by the fire. Believe me, this stuff works, and they work wonders. New hair for the new year? I'd be honored._

 _See you in a week._

 _Blaise Zabini'_

 _"_ Now I feel bad for not getting you anything, dummy." Hermione whispered to herself, placing the note back in the box.

"You would get that _snake_ a present?!"

Hermione glared at Ron. "Ronald! Please control yourself. Are you saying that I can't send a gift to my friend?"

"Oh, so now he's a _friend_!" Ron stood up from the table, red in the face. He had already been on edge from their disagreement this morning, and the package from Blaise had only fueled the fire.

"Stop it, Ron." Harry whispered, pulling at his friend's sleeve to get him to sit back down. "Calm down."

With their voices raising ten decibels after every exchange, even Snape had caught on and was now keeping an eye casually at the drama that was unfolding at the other end of table.

"Yes _, friend_. If you haven't noticed, and why would you, you barely even stepped foot in the library all last term, Zabini and I have been studying together."

"Wake up, Hermione!" Ron all but yelled now, trying to talk some sense into his friend, "He's _using_ you. Everyone knows that he's using you to get good marks."

Honey brown eyes narrowed. "And pray tell, how is that different from you and Harry?" That shut Ron up quickly before she continued, "I happen to like to _help_ my _friends_ study, Ronald. And if you can't get that through that thick head of yours, I don't know if I can help you with your Transfiguration essay."

"Is that how it is." Ron glared. "You're choosing him over us. What did he send you anyway? Love letters? Flashy jewelry?" Then it dawned on him, and he accused, "That necklace was from him too, wasn't it? That's why you would offer up Harry's broom and my chocolates, but wouldn't even suspect your own gift."

Hermione gasped and she couldn't conceal the hurt that ran across her features. She actually had suspected her own anonymous gift as well, and was prepared to give it up to Professor McGonagall too.

In a quiet rage, she whispered, "Do you even know me at all? How does someone that you've only known two and a half months send you a more thoughtful gift than someone that you had known for two and a half years?" She picked up the box and stood up indignantly. "I'll have you know that Zabini sent me some rare books to help in my Potions essay because I suspect he saw me glancing longingly at the restricted section of the library while we studied. I was going to ask to borrow Harry's cloak but it doesn't look like I will have a need to anymore." She walked a few steps towards the door before turning back to Ron. "Enjoy your Bon Bons. See if I care if they're poisoned."

* * *

But as it turns out, Hermione did care about her two friends, and very much so. Despite knowing that her actions may tear their friendship even further apart, Hermione ended up telling Professor McGonagall about the anonymous gifts that they had all received, right after the end of brunch.

It didn't take long for Professor McGonagall to show up at Ron and Harry's shared dormitory, with Hermione standing in her shadows, looking sad and apologetic. The boys knew immediately that they'd had to part with their gifts, and they both felt angry and bitter.

As Harry and Ron handed the Firebolt and chocolates over to Professor McGonagall, Ron shot a glare towards Hermione, making sure that she caught it, and said cruelly, "Professor, Hermione didn't tell you about the anonymous necklace that she received did she? She's such a hypocrite, making us-"

"I'm going to stop you there, Mr. Weasley." their Head of House cut him off sternly. Behind her, Hermione's lips quivered and she bit back the urge to sob. She turned her heels as tears fell from her eyes, and she ran down the stairs and up towards the girl's side of the tower, locking herself in her room.

Professor McGonagall sighed and shook her head, feeling pity for her favorite student. She reached into her cloak and pulled out the little key pendant necklace and showed it to the boys. "Miss Granger felt similarly about the necklace that she received and asked me to examine it for malicious charms or curses. Quite frankly, I agree with Miss Granger. These items could very well be sent by Sirius Black or someone else equally malicious, and I am so very thankful that at least she is levelheaded enough to display vigilance, or I don't know what would become of you three trouble makers." She put the necklace back in her pocket. "I hope that you will both reflect on your attitudes. If I were in your position, I would apologize to her."

With heads hung low, Harry and Ron gave each other a look and they both knew, they royally screwed up.

* * *

 ** _A/N: Oh boy, this chapter was SUPER long so it's a special treat! Do you like long chapters? Hehe, personally I like to keep them around 2.5K-3K words to keep them bite-sized._**

 ** _Ron was such a git in this chapter, wasn't he? (Sorry to the Ron fans out there). They're teenagers though and coming from his family, being a Pureblood but not well off, I'm sure he had insecurities and other sort of self-worth issues. They'll get over it._**

 ** _"Praestat opes sapientia" loosely translates to Virtue by wisdom. Yes, it is meant to be the Nott family motto on their coat of arms._**

 ** _Readers have asked in reviews when Hermione will find out her true heritage. The answer is, around fourth year. I actually have some parts of fourth year written already (the Tri-Wiz dance). Can't wait for you to read it! Let's just concentrate on finishing 3rd year now. I have maybe 2 chapters planned for 3rd year. Then we'll be moving on :)_**

 ** _What's your favorite scene from fourth year? Please leave a review to let me know!_**

 ** _As always, take care._**

 ** _~Cookie_**


	29. Chapter 29

**Chapter Twenty-Nine: A New Look**

As the shower doors slid open, trapped steam poured into the cooler air, mimicking clouds in tumultuous weather. Out stepped Hermione onto the tiled floor with a towel wrapped around her torso. She had placed a warming charm on the floor, but the air still nipped at her skin more than she would've liked and she involuntarily shivered in response. A few steps past the shower took Hermione to the full length mirror that was equipped in the far side of the bathroom. Standing in front of it, she seemed unsure of herself. Her posture was hunched in ever so slightly, withdrawn, and she held her fists close to her chest, her heart beating a little faster than normal. She was anxious to see the result of what she had done.

With the whole mirror fogged up, she had to used her hand to wipe away the condensation with circular motions. Wide brown eyes on a face that Hermione should recognize as her own stared back at her, but somehow the girl in the mirror seemed so foreign to her at the same time. The facial features were all the same, but the hair that framed the face, that was drastically different. It was pin straight, being weighed down by her fresh shower. It was so different than what she was used to.

 _It's just hair though._

That's what Hermione always thought at least. Hair to her was never something that she cared for, unlike the other girls her age.

Take exhibit A: her roommates. Lavender and Parvarti could spend hours playing and fussing with their hair. To her, hair was collectively akin to an appendage that provided no useful function to her. In fact, she always wore it natural to save time, and sometime even up into a messy bun to get it out of her face while studying. She never considered it an _asset_ like many of her peers.

She picked up her wand and muttered a quick drying charm. Normally the drying charm would leave her hair frizzy, but not this time. Hermione reached up and combed through the long locks with her fingers. There was barely any resistance, a stark contrast to the coarse, stubborn curls that she grew to live with for the past thirteen years of her life. They were now soft natural waves that cascaded past her shoulder blades. Zabini certainly wasn't lying about the power of the hair care products that he had given her. The results were far better than she expected.

 _But why though? Just why did I end up using them? Why did I decide to change how I look?_

She hadn't intended on using the products, but a part of her conscious just demanded a change, and deep in her core, she knew why. The bitter smile from her reflection in the mirror told it all. She felt suffocated this past week and the ache in her heart never subsided since the fight with the boys on Christmas Day. It was as if Hermione had lost both her best friends in one go, triggered over the temporary loss of some materialistic possessions no less, it was downright laughable. It wasn't as if their gifts weren't going to be returned to them either. Wasn't their safety more important? Merlin, after the thick and thin that they had gone through these past two and a half years, Hermione had thought that it would take a whole lot more to tear apart her friendship with the boys.

She was too naïve, she realized, and her two best friends were still very much immature boys rather than the young men that she wished for them to be. It was hard being the precocious one.

Hermione harrumphed loudly and finished drying the rest of herself and got dressed in a comfortable jumper and muggle jeans.

"Stupid broom and shoddy chocolates," she muttered under her breath before she picked up her soiled clothes and dumped it roughly into the hamper, as if the action would help take out a little bit of her frustration. She wasn't even in the mood to hide her dirty laundry from the House Elves today.

* * *

It was now Sunday afternoon of the day that the students were scheduled to return to Hogwarts. The days after the fight were simply torturous for Hermione, and she kept to her room or the library as much as possible to avoid bumping into Harry and Ron. Time just seemed to dragged on, no matter how much she willed for the holiday to pass by more quickly. It was ironic really. She had been playing with time all term, but there's nothing she could do to make time move any faster.

It had become a habit of hers to fiddle with the time-turner that hung on the chain around her neck when she's by herself, and again she absentmindedly passed the gadget back and forth in her hands as she sat in her usual little corner of the library.

These days, without the company of her two best friends, she spent most of her day finding comfort in the library, doing some research for her term papers and indulging herself in books. While she was able to get much work done, the solitude left her feeling sad and a bit lonely. She truly missed them.

The two still hadn't apologized to her, but based on the conversation that she overheard between Ron and Harry whilst they were playing Wizard's Chess in the Common Room, she knew that _they knew_ that they were in the wrong. They were just too stubborn to be the first to apologize… Well, three can play at that game. She swore to herself that she would keep her dignity this time and refused to be the one to give in first. In the past, it was always _she_ who had made the first move to make amends, even when it was Harry and Ron that misunderstood her or wronged her. Well, no more. It wasn't happening this time.

Looking out the window, Hermione could see the students arriving back at Hogwarts and were making their way up the courtyard and into the hallways. She propped her head up and let out a relieved sigh, watching multiple trails form in the snow where the students were trodding. With everyone back, she can finally have dinner back at the Great Hall and have someone to talk to and have a meaningful conversation.

Let's just say that she's had enough of Professor Trelawney being the life of the dinner conversation.

Hermione had expected the rest of her late afternoon before supper to be quiet and uneventful. After all, who in their right mind would use their last few precious hours of Christmas Holiday to go to the library to do some light reading? So imagine her surprise when a person coughed quietly to make their presence known before saying, "Mind if I join you?"

Hermione could only let her mouth hang open in response.

* * *

"Quit looking at me like that!" Hermione adverted her eyes and lightly admonished the boy sitting across from her. She propped the book _All Things Considered - A Pureblood's Guide_ on the table and purposely hid herself behind it, which also hid the self-conscious blush that tinged her cheeks a pretty shade of pink.

She could sense the boy smiling devilishly at her without looking up from her book. She was trying to concentrate on the chapter about the magical properties of Purebloods, more specifically, their blood and the ways that it could be used for dark magic. It was unnerving, learning that potion ingredients could be harvested from humans, but she supposed that that wasn't too farfetched. If magical properties could be found in bits and pieces of other magical creatures, why not humans?

Her mind wandered to the polyjuice potion that she brewed last year when they had tried to sneak into the Slytherin Common Room. That had required a bit of something from a human being as well. But of course, what she was reading was very dark magic, stuff that normal books would not even dare dabble on. Though it appeared that Pureblood children were aware of the fact though, and her thoughts flew back to what Pansy was saying the day Buckbeak had attacked Malfoy.

She ran a hand through her smooth locks that now cascaded down past her shoulders in soft waves. The feeling of her chestnut hair running through her fingers felt so foreign to her, but she liked it. She could understand a little why Lavender and Parvati always made such a big fuss about their hair.

She set her book down. "For the record, I didn't do it because of you, Zabini." she said to him, and she was rewarded by a single raised eyebrow in response.

Blaise smirked, "You know I have selective hearing, Granger." He put a cupped hand by his ear. "What? You did it because of me? Sweet baby dragons! I'm so flattered."

Hermione threw her head back and laughed, not even bothering to keep her voice down (Madam Pince wasn't around anyway). Blaise always knew how to put her in a good mood. "You know what? Whatever floats your boat, Zabini."

Blaise threw her a puzzled look. "What's this about a boat? Ah, must be another one of your Muggle sayings isn't it?" He took a scrap of parchment from his pocket, looked around the table before grabbing her quill, and quickly jotted it down. "The answer is obvious, Granger. Water-," he said, not looking up from his writing, "-would float my boat." Hermione chuckled and shook her head at the wizard, taking her words so literally. Blaise had been making an effort learning Muggle sayings and idioms. Hemione wasn't sure why he was doing it (Blaise had said he liked to throw them at Draco to confuse and irritate the hell out of him), but she was grateful since she wanted to spread Muggle awareness.

Hermione interlocked her fingers together and used it as a bridge for her to rest her chin as she gazed down at Blaise's notes. "It means, 'if it makes you happy'." she said with a smile, truly touched at Blaise's efforts and acceptance of her Muggle upbringing.

Blaise nodded before finishing his notes and tucking the scrap of paper away. "Well, I do mean what I said earlier. I'm flattered that you used the hair products I sent you. I was so sure that you wouldn't have to be honest." he admitted sheepishly, a hand rubbing his neck for the sake of doing something with them. "You look…uh… puh-ree-tty."

There was a pregnant pause and Blaise had half a mind to think he offended her in some way, calling her pretty. After all, Granger was sure to be one to emphasize inner beauty rather than outward beauty. He watched Hermione blink twice, as if surprised to hear what she's heard and needed more time to process it.

"Puh-ree-tty?" Hermione echoed, enunciated each syllable as he did and then threw her head back to laugh once more. "You sound little boy in primary school trying to compliment a little girl in the schoolyard, Zabini."

"Well, didn't want to scare you away," Blaise replied smoothly with an aloof grin.

"I can handle big, adult words, Zabini." Hermione rolled her eyes. "Well, since we're being honest here, I wasn't really planning on it, but after I got into a big row with Harry and Ron, I needed a change to get my head off things. Come to think of it, you're the first person to have seen it." Across from her, Blaise seemed to relish in that fact and his face lit up. She continued to absentmindedly twirl a loose lock around her fingers. "I must say, I really do like how it looks and it wasn't difficult at all. I just add it to my shampoo routine. It's brilliant. How do you know about them?"

"Ha, funny story. Theo uses it." Blaise said with a laugh, before explaining to Hermione what happened at Christmas. "What happened with you, Potter and Weasley?"

"Ugh… I don't want to talk about it. The past week moved slower than watching icicles form in the winter. You have no idea how relieved I was to have people back from Hols." Hermione laid her head on top of the desk, her cheeks flush against the cool surface, causing her to mumble, "I'm so mad at Ron particularly. I bet Harry would have seen my reasoning if it weren't for Ron persuading him not to."

"Well, no offense, but Weaselbee isn't very bright." Blaise said, earning a narrowed look from Hermione. "Sorry, thought I can use our nicknames for them since you're mad." Blaise quickly apologized before continuing. "But you've known this. Words tumble out of Weasley's mouth before he can process what he's saying. Actually, I don't think it's a matter of his brain not catching up with his mouth… I'm actually not even sure he thinks before speaking. Or maybe he doesn't have very much in the space between his ears…"

A light snort from Hermione brought a triumphant smirk to his face.

"Anyhow, just give it some time." He advised, "Them two have the memory span of a hamster. Things will go back to normal if you let them. If you're expecting an apology, I don't know if their minds are developed enough to express such an adult behavior. When you get tired of the silent treatment, just apologize first to them, and they will mime back like parrots."

"Why do I always have to be the one to apologize first!" Hermione groaned and protested by pounding her fists lightly on the table like a petulant child.

"Because they're dolts." said a quiet voice from behind Blaise.

Hermione looked up, just in time to see a figure round the bookcase and Blaise arched his neck backwards over the back support of his chair, already knowing who the voice belonged to.

"Nice one, Theo!" Blaise commented, with Theo now upside down in his vision.

At that point, Hermione had half a mind to agree with them too and didn't bother to defend her 'friends'.

"Hello, Nott." Hermione greeted, out of politeness. In the back of her mind, she tried to count number of times where she actually had a conversation with Theo Nott, but she found none. Nott had always been a quiet one, always under the radar, like a black cat blending into the shadows of the dark of the night. He seemed cool and collected, and there was a mysterious air about him. He was an enigma if there ever was one.

Just as Hermione was sizing him up, Theo was taking in her appearance as well.

"Granger-," he greeted, his head tilted to one side. By the slightly perturbed expression on his face, Hermione knew that he was startled by her changed look as well. "You look…" he started before being cut off.

"Beautiful? Stunning? Delectable?" Blaise offered. "Whatever you do, just don't say 'pretty' or your intelligence will be questioned." he warned.

"Not intelligence," Hermione retorted, "just the aptitude of your vocabulary."

"Hmm…" Theo mumbled, stalling for time to let him mull over his words, "I was going to say that you look like me." Theo replied with an eyebrow raised.

Hermione stared. Now that he mentioned it, they did look strikingly similar. The resemblance was uncanny, really. Theo's voice brought her back to the present.

"Blaise, the Prince is getting annoyed. Are you finished yet so we can go to the Great Hall for dinner?" Theo told Blaise in that calm tone of his. Hermione deduced that they must be referring to Malfoy.

"Ha, so his royal highness sent his page boy?"

"If I'm his page boy, then what are you?" Theo asked, his tone still even, though he sounded less bored than before, given the chance to defend his name.

Blaise grinned, "Why his honorable friend, of course."

"More like his lap dog."

"Hey! Why you… man servant! At least I'd be a cute dog!"

Sensing no end to the two Slytherins bickering, Hermione interrupted them. "Oh stop it you two. This won't go anywhere! Zabini, if you have places to be, maybe you should leave."

Blaise pulled his best puppy face, pout included. "You would kick me away? That's cruel, Granger." Hermione scoffed and shook her head. Sometimes even she doesn't even know how to deal with Blaise.

Blaise then turned to Theo, with one corner of his mouth pulled up into a mischievous smirk. "If he's that impatient, he can come get us himself. Me leaving with you would only confirm your station as his page boy."

"You know he won't come in here." Theo said lowly, trying to be discrete by leaning towards Blaise. They each shared a knowing smirk, both confident that Draco was in the denial stage and had a thing for Granger that he wasn't willing to admit out loud.

Hermione missed the Slytherins' shared look, but what Theo had said had piqued her curiosity none the less. "Why won't Malfoy come in the library?" She asked.

"Because…" Theo paused and trained his eyes on her face. _Man, Granger really has the same eyes as I do._

Theo's lack of words was enough to fill in the blank for Hermione and an answer, albeit a misguided one, was formed in her head. Her mouth pulled into a silent 'O' in understanding. Her eyebrows crinkled and contempt filled her expressive eyes.

"It's me isn't it?" Hermione asked knowingly, her voice cold. "Can't bear my presence, is that it, Malfoy?" she muttered angrily. She quickly shoveled her belongings back into her knapsack. "Well, I have a few choice words for you." She stood up and made for the door, steps echoing in the empty library.

Theo let out a low whistle. "Oh, you sly dog."

"Uh uh uh." Blaise tsked and waved his pointer finger. "I'm a sly _snake_."

"Aren't we both." Theo agreed, draping an arm around Blaise and ready to follow the Gryffindor out of the library to give Draco a piece of her mind.

* * *

 ** _A/N: Hello, hello! Cookie here! It's been a busy month! It's wedding season afterall. Dun dun dun dun!_**

 ** _There's only one more planned chapter for third year and it'll move pretty fast to wrap it up._**

 ** _For those of you in the States, wishing you a wonderful July 4th!_**

 ** _Take care & stay safe. _**

**_Send me a review if you have a moment. Love to hear from you. Reminds me to update :)_**

 ** _~Cookie_**

 ** _Ps: The next chapter is tentatively titled: An Unlikely Love Counselor_**


	30. Chapter 30

**Chapter Thirty: An Unlikely Love Counselor**

As a well-bred individual of Wizarding Society, Draco Malfoy was no stranger to private art galleries and charity events that displayed paintings from the most renowned artists. As such, Draco considered himself someone with a refined eye for art, after all, he had been attending these events since he was eight years old.

Over the years, Draco found that his tastes favored paintings with sceneries and landscapes far more than portraits of some famous saint, wizard or witch. Portraits were always so noisy with all their gossiping, or worse, when rattled on and on about what they considered to be 'sagely insight'. Once they start, you can't shut them up! It was downright distasteful. Honestly, paintings need to learn to keep their opinions to themselves. With landscapes, he could admire the subtleties of every move of a branch or every sway of a blade of grass as soft winds blew across the pasture. It drew him in, making him feel as though he were standing there. He feasted on the tranquility, the calmness of nature. It was liberating, and it was a means for him to escape from the present. It was with that same mindset that he stood there in front of the cathedral windows, lost in his thoughts while admiring the Hogwart's winter grounds just outside of the library.

To any passerby that were to chance on this scene, they very well would consider it pure artwork themselves. Draco stood poised with hands casually in his pockets, his face relaxed, and eyes pensive. His platinum blonde hair gleamed in the sunset glow, and together with his white sweater and light khaki trousers, he seemed almost ethereal. Without the constant scowl upon his face, any reasonable person would definitively came to the conclusion that they just stumbled across a very attractive young fellow…

But all of that was lost on Hermione Granger.

Fueled by her rage, Hermione blasted through the library doors, lacking the general respect that she usually had for a place that she considered sacred. The double doors were forced open so quickly that they gave a shrill screech in protest along the hinges, and that was the only precursor to what followed.

" _DRACO MALFOY! You insolent prat!_ "

Hardly startled by the outburst, a set of thin lips curled to an amused half smile. Draco allowed himself that moment of triumph because he knew that Hermione couldn't see him with his back facing the library.

 _Why am I not surprised, Granger has absolutely no appreciation for art. She lives her life at such a high pace, I wonder if she ever slows herself down to just… admire what's in front of her._

As he turned his heel, he wiped the smile off his face and replaced it with his trademark scowl.

"What do you wan…" Draco's sneer all but trailed off as he caught sight at Hermione.

 _Holy Mother of Merlin… That can't be Granger. No way in hell…_

But it was her. Draco was stunned speechless. He didn't know how she did it, but Hermione was sporting the softest looking hazelnut curls that framed her face perfectly (though after some thought, he now had a strong suspicious of just _who_ Blaise must have used his dear bird to send a set of Theo's hair care products to). Draco silently prayed to the almighty gods that it didn't look as though he was staring for too long, but from what he could see (using those refined eyes of his), the new hairstyle highlighted her beauty and made her delicate face stand out. Before this moment, he had the perfect reason to call her an ugly beaver since her face practically receded into the frizzy mass that she called her hair, but now, she was undeniably beautiful, even with her slightly large front teeth.

He didn't know what he was feeling. There was a warm, foreign burn that spread from his chest like wildfire, and what must be adrenaline coursing through his veins was setting his brain on overdrive. His scowl deepened, but only as a byproduct of him clenching hard on his jaw as he berated himself.

 _Push these thoughts away. Damn it! You did NOT learn how to compartmentalize your feelings these past two years just to have all that training crumble on you when you need it most._

Gods, his mouth was dry as hell and his tongue was rough like sandpaper against the roof of his mouth. Draco cleared his throat nervously. "What do you want, Granger," he said gruffly. His eyes widened a fraction, appalled at himself. His voice did _not_ just lower in register.

To his relief, if Hermione noticed, she hadn't commented on it. However, behind her, Blaise and Theo appeared as though they were trying _very hard_ to hold their sniggers in. They looked so amused at the exchange that Draco had to muster a lot of willpower to resist the urge to march over there and slap them silly. Of course, his friends didn't realize that they played right into his plans. Well, most of his plans. He hadn't expect Granger to look like _that_ , and it certainly startled him, but everything else went according to plan.

He knew that sending Theo in the library to 'fetch Blaise' would send Granger into a frenzy, and she would storm out and possibly entertain him with a verbal spat. In short, it was an excuse to have a conversation with her while keeping up with appearances that they hated each other. It was brilliant.

* * *

Hermione eyes flashed with disdain. She didn't like Draco's attitude one bit and she all but snarled in pure fury. "You disgust me, Malfoy."

Draco shrugged it off as though he were expecting it. Her comment didn't faze him at all, and just to get under her skin even more, he let a sardonic smile form languidly on his face.

"What did I do this time, Granger? Enlighten me."

Hermione crossed her arms and tapped her foot, annoyed. "You know what you did. You seriously wouldn't go in the library to get Zabini yourself just because he was in the company of a Muggleborn? How very childish of you."

Draco made an amused sound. "Pft, don't think so highly of yourself. Why do you get the impression that everything has to do with you anyway? Your Griffindork friends may put you up on a high pedestal, but that doesn't change what Wizarding society thinks of you." His eyes narrowed before he continued, "Everyone else just sees you as just a lowly Mudblood."

He could tell that his dis struck a nerve by the twitch of her mouth, but Hermione was able to impressively keep her wit and gave no ground. The brunette quirked an eyebrow and Draco swallowed. He knew he was in trouble then and surely the girl was going to challenge him with a smart remark.

"Okay then, -" she said slowly, "-if it's not because of me, then why didn't you come in yourself, Malfoy?" Mockingly, she added, _"_ Enlighten me." Her head tilted to one side, waiting for his answer.

 _Damn it! I underestimated her. How could I forget… Granger was no ordinary witch. She's not fickle like the typical girls our age. She had the wit, brains, and cool logic of a Nott at her arsenal and now coupled with her Greengrass beauty, she can have any guy wrapped around her little finger if she so chooses._

That didn't settle well with Draco. For the first time, Hermione was actually eye-catching, whether she knew it or not. He like it better when Hermione was a diamond in the rough, it meant that she would be overlooked by those who didn't have an eye for her potential, which quite frankly, was much of the school population.

But back to her question… he can't possibly tell her the truth…a Malfoy can't lose face. Draco racked his brain for a reasonable response.

 _What can I tell her though? That I had wanted to watch the snow melt? Enjoy the scenery outside? Oh bugger, she'll know right away that it's a load of hippogriff crap. But to tell her that I just wanted to bicker with her like this? Tch, over my dead body._

At the end of the day, it was all his fault for not being one step ahead of her. But despite all that, Draco gathered his composure and smirked. _Hmm…Hippogriff crap…_

That gave him an idea. He was a Slytherin and he knew just the way to slither out of this little mess.

 _When caught in a bind, deflect and distract._

"You know what? I _will_ enlighten you." Draco said with feigned graciousness. "Since I'm in the sharing mood today, with it being the holiday and all, let me let you in on something… you know that wild overgrown chicken that attacked me in class?" he asked, completely circumnavigating the question.

That did the trick. Hermione's brows furrowed and her priorities shifted, no longer giving a Skrewt's blast-end about Draco's reasons for not setting foot in the library. "You mean Buckbeak?" she demanded.

Draco dismissed her with a wave of the hand, "Whatever, the name's not important to me. He can be called Buckfeet for all I care. Anyways, the Hogwarts Board of Governors weren't impressed with how the bird attacked a student, which is me of course, and they're going to take the bird to trial." He feigned a haughty laugh towards Blaise and Theo's direction, hoping they would take a hint and join in like Crabbe and Goyle would. But Blaise wasn't laughing as he had hoped, if fact, he didn't even crack a smile. From Blaise's body language, Draco knew that his friend wasn't impressed with his antics. Blaise's arms were crossed, and he had the same look of disapproval as that of a father who caught his child doing something disagreeable.

Blaise shook his head. He knew what Draco's stance was from their private conversation at Malfoy manor. He knew that Draco didn't want the Hippogriff to be put on the stand, since Parkinson was most definitely going to use his influence to give the bird a death sentence. Draco had admitted that he didn't want any blood on his hands and would much rather push for Hagrid to be fired from his post since the half-giant was clearly unqualified.

Blaise gave Theo a nudge in the arm and a look that said 'what is that idiot doing now?'. Theo only rolled his eyes and shrugged. "He's being stupid," he whispered to Blaise before continuing, "It tends to be a side-effect of a thing called 'pent up attraction'."

Blaise nodded in agreement and replied in an equally hushed tone, "Ahh, that must be it. And it gets amplified twofold if one is in the state of 'denial' for too long."

Deciding that there was no way to stop this train wreck, the two Slytherins kept quiet and were content on being bystanders.

* * *

"Ha, imagine that," Draco continued. "A hearing for a bird! That must be the first. Though wouldn't you say that this is a giant step forward for the rights of Magical Creatures, Granger?"

Draco eyed Hermione's fists that were clenched tightly by her sides. They were clutched so tightly that he was sure that there would be crescent marks on her flesh. He knew she wouldn't dare hex him openly in the halls, so those would be her only weapon of choice.

"How could you even make light of this situation?" Her voice became shrill. "Do you even have a conscience!?"

 _Gosh Granger is loud when she's passionate about something._

"I do have a conscience, Granger, that's what makes _me_ human unlike that _beast_ that attacked me."

"Well, you provoked him first!"

Draco sighed. "What makes you think that that _animal_ understood anything that I had said that day. You really shouldn't go anthropomorphizing wild beasts, Granger. That oaf did just that and thought that a wild Hippogriff could be tamed, and look where that got him. Honestly, what a sorry excuse of a professor - "

"Don't say that about Hagrid-!"

"-but it's true! I swear, Hogwarts' standards are getting lower and lower each year. If that bird ends up dead, _Professor Hagrid_ can only blame himself for his poor judgment for having such a dangerous creature in a classroom setting."

Hermione's voice was low and raw with emotions. "You would get Buckbeak killed?" she asked incredulously.

Another shrug from Draco. "Get your facts straight, Granger. The Hippogriff is put on the stand, so yes, the death penalty is on the table. But don't turn it into a personal attack against me. I'm not the one trying to get him killed. It's for the jury to decide." he replied honestly for the first time that day.

"You liar!" Hermione retorted, "You and the jury are practically one and the same! You expect me to believe that you and your rich daddy had nothing to do with it?"

"Believe what you want, Granger." Draco said through gritted teeth, "But I can tell you truthfully that my father and I had nothing to do with this."

"Oh, so you're saying you have no vested interested in getting revenge? Ha, unbelievable!"

"For the last time, no!" Draco threw his arms up. "For Salazar's sake, woman! Why do you care so much about that damn bird? If he dies, there's another one to replace-"

 ***SLAP***

Draco couldn't finish his sentence, the sting on his left cheek left him dazed.

 _Fucking hell? She slapped me! Granger actually slapped me!_

Everything happened so fast and Blaise was at his side in an instant, gripping his shoulders and making him stand rooted to the ground (not that Draco was going to go anywhere, he was still speechless). Maybe Blaise thought that he would actually have done something as rash as hitting a girl in his rage. He really ought to have felt disappointment that his best mate would think so lowly of him, but all he could feel right now… was the stunned feeling left in his gut and the angry sting from his cheek that was now stained pink from the impact.

He mildly registered that Theo pushed Hermione away from the library and led her down the hallway while calming her down with apology of sorts. He numbly felt Blaise guide him over to a bench and pushed him down to sit on it.

"Draco, you idiot…" he grumbled.

"I don't need to hear this from you right now." Draco curled into a position with his arms resting on his knees and his head hung low.

Blaise pulled out his wand and muttered the incantation for the Muffliato Charm. He was glad that their head of house had decided to share such a useful spell with them during the beginning of term.

* * *

They sat in silence for a few long minutes.

Blaise sighed. "Mate, what are you doing?" He sounded genuinely perplexed. "Theo and I can tell that you fancy her. You liked her even before she became so pretty. Hell, I can bet galleons that you took an interest to her when she barged into our train compartment during first year." He repeated his question again, this time even quieter, "what are you doing?"

Draco mulled over Blaise's words. Blaise was right. What he had been feeling must be some level of attraction towards Hermione. But he's stuck… ever since first year, he'd been taunting her, calling her a Mudblood. She hated him, loathed him.

 _Bloody hell! Why did Father tell me Granger was a Mudblood when she wasn't? Everything would be so different. Was she really in any danger if the rest of Wizarding Britain found out? Would Theo's father really come after her? Theo's father is a little crazy now-a-days, but surely Dumbledore and the Aurors would protect her? Blast it, whatever chances I had with her is gone now. The only form of communication I can have with her is a battle of wits that more often than not would end in some sort of name calling, or 'I hate you's'._

"Does it even matter, Blaise? Me and Granger together could never be possible."

"Are you worried because she's Muggleborn? That your Father would disapprove?"

There was a long exhale from Draco. "Even if she's not a Muggleborn, I'm saying hypothetically, nothing would ever happen between us. She hates me."

"No shit, look how you're treating her." Blaise muttered.

"Are you even going to pretend that you're on my side? And here I thought you were trying to make me feel better. What a lousy friend you are."

"I consider you both my friends -"

"-well that's a luxury that I don't have." Draco cut in bitterly.

"You can if you tried!" Blaise retorted. "If you would only take as much effort you put into tormenting her into genuinely trying to get to know her and being nice to her, things would change."

"I doubt it, I've gone too far down that death spiral. She won't have any feelings for me."

"Hate is a feeling," Blaise pointed out with a grin. "In fact, hate is a _strong_ feeling. You just have to turn it around."

"I don't know how!" Draco cried exasperatedly, "You make it sound so damn easy, Blaise. Your name doesn't carry the same expectations that mine does. I am born and raised to have a predisposition to hate her. Don't you understand?"

"Yes, but I'm not saying that you need to be best buddies with her overnight. At the very least just try to get to the point where you can be civil with each other. You're not even showing her the _real_ you. You're not even being true to yourself, to your feelings. You do like her, don't you?"

"I…I suppose I do." Draco finally admitted.

"Well, the first thing you should do is to do the right thing in regards to that Hippogriff." Blaise suggested. "The Hippogriff is important to her. Do you even know why she slapped you?"

Draco shook his head.

"You suggested that Buckbeak was replaceable, that his death would mean nothing."

"But I was speaking the truth, Hagrid has a whole pen of them." Draco pointed out.

"That's the problem with us Purebloods. We think everything is replaceable… which is true, there's nothing that galleons can't buy. But those Gryffindors are like damn Hufflepuffs when it comes to these things. Think about it this way, if I were to say that I'm going to take Granger away and replace her with another Muggleborn, is that okay?"

"No, because she won't be Granger."

"Well it's the same thing for her and that Hippogriff."

"Ugh, I'll see what I can do. Honestly, why am I doing this?!" Draco asked out loud while standing up.

"Because you like Granger." Blaise said, standing up too and dusting some invisible lint off his trousers.

"Because I like Granger." Draco repeated.

Well, that idea didn't sound that bad. He can work with that.

" _Finite._ "

* * *

 ** _Hello Readers!_**

 ** _Cookie here! Wow, I can't believe I'm at Chapter 30! This is a big milestone for me. Whether you're a new reader or one that joined the ride from the beginning, I humbly thank you for your support._**

 ** _If you enjoyed this story, please please PLEASE write a review. Long or short, it doesn't matter, but it helps others find this Fic as I know many reader sort stories by "follows", "favorites", and "reviews"._**

 ** _Should you need more of a reason to write a review, it's my birthday next week. ;)_**

 ** _Anyway, I thought I was going to conclude Year 3 with this chapter, but there will be one more. Fun fact: originally, Snape was going to be the 'love counselor', but it changed to Blaise… hope you liked the vibe of this chapter!_**

 ** _Take care, and until next time._**

 ** _~Cookie_**


	31. Chapter 31

**Chapter Thirty-One: To Amend One's Folly**

Draco tried. He really did, but it wasn't enough.

His breath hitched and the world felt as if it had stilled in that instant. The sound of metal striking its target was unmistakable, as was the pained howl from whom Draco assumed could only come from the half-giant.

The wail was one that could never be unheard, forever imprinted onto his conscience. The sound that resonated over to his ears from where he stood at the base of the hill was a heart-wrenching sob, full of sorrow and emotion of a vulnerable man mourning the loss of a loved one.

 _Buckbeak really wasn't just another hippogriff in that big oaf's pen, was he?_

Suddenly, early memories from his childhood rushed to the forefront of his mind. Surely, his mother reacted similarly after finding out that his siblings would never have made it into the world. He was only a child then, and thus was shunned away from the delivery room and had no knowing about what when on beyond the double doors, but he remembered his mother's hollow, haunting eyes for the days that followed after each still-birth or miscarriage. This parallel really tore at his heartstrings, no matter how much he tried to tell himself that he shouldn't feel anything for the Hogwarts Groundskeeper.

He watched the Golden Trio from his hiding spot behind a large tree that was a healthy distance away. He wasn't able to see the execution, but what he heard told him everything that he needed to know. However, what he _did_ see sent a fiery burn straight to his chest, oddly reminiscent of the sensation he felt when he secretly took a big swig of his father's expensive firewhiskey this past summer from the Manor's private reserves.

Draco's face darkened considerably.

 _What the HELL is Granger doing turning her face into Weasley's shoulder!? He is not worthy of being your human tissue!_

Oh, he was bitter.

Everything was going so well the few months after Christmas all the way through finals week, if you discount all the trouble he had gone through to threaten any bloke that looked Hermione's way with ulterior motives. Hermione was suddenly deemed attractive by the general populace and some older classmates were even crass enough to openly deem her as 'shaggable' or exhibit other similarly boorish behavior. Needless to say, it only took Draco a few choice words with these uncouth individuals in a deserted hallway to shut them up. They wouldn't even dare think about doing anything untoward to Hermione anymore.

In fact, Draco had thought that the heavens were finally showing him some grace when a series of (fortunate) events occurred in rapid succession that was sure to mark the end of Granger's friendship with the Weasel and Saint Potter. Hermione had a fall out with the two boys (over Christmas presents according to Blaise… he really couldn't fathom why), and then her _brilliant_ cat ate up Weasley's rat (also firsthand information, courtesy of Blaise). The latter came as a surprise to Draco, and he made a note to self to sneak the cat some treats as an apology. The cat had a tendency of prowling around the castle, as if searching for rats, and Draco had seen him a few times by the Slytherin dungeon. Draco was so sure that the cat's intelligence was compromised and that Hermione had taken it in out of sheer pity since the cat had a face of someone that took a bat to their face. How wrong he was. Thanks to this stroke of luck, everything fell to his favor and Hermione rarely had anything to do with the golden boys these days. It was marvelous. Buckbeak's trial and subsequent death sentence must have brought them back together.

Draco saw red.

 _Son of an overly fertile Banshee! How dare he put his hand around her shoulder, pulling her closer. He's completely taking advantage of the situation! Who does that ginger disgrace think he is?_

Against his better judgment, Draco raced up the hill against time and his long strides propelled him towards them. The longer that that sorry excuse of a Pureblood had his grimy hands on her, the more it fuel him to pump his legs even faster. Draco stopped at a point where he was just close enough to be seen and heard, but far enough that he could react if they were to throw hexes at him.

Instinctively, Draco called out to them with his usual sneer, the only way he knew how to converse with the Gryffindors. He threw the snidest remark that he could think of at the moment in efforts to separate them.

"Oh? Looks like you lot got the front row seats." he jeered, his usual cold sarcasm was layered with an added dash of annoyance, "Did I miss the show? Pity."

That caught their attention and Hermione and Ron broke apart instantly, to his glee.

Hermione whipped around and her eyes found his immediately. Her glare was venomous but also glistening brilliantly, moist from fresh tears.

"You despicable, sorry excuse for a human!" she bellowed all in one breath. "Happy now, aren't you? Was this want you wanted all along?"

Draco's sneer instantly melted into a frown.

 _Well shit, that broke them apart but now she's absolutely furious. Oh bugger, that was completely counterproductive and exactly what Blaise told me NOT to do… He said that I needed to be nice to her, to show the real me._

It was evident that Draco royally screwed that one up, and his mind was racing as Hermione stomped towards him. Her fury made him subconsciously take a step back and he thrusted a hand at her direction as if that would hold her back. It didn't, and she so only marched closer. Her aura was deadly and the boys could feel her magic prickling the air.

"Wait! I didn't really mean that!" Draco blurted out of sheer panic. Well, the sudden confession got Hermione to stop in her tracks, just two lengths away from him, and he was met with raised eyebrows, silently waiting for his explanation.

"Well…eh…" he said awkwardly, trying to buy himself some time. "I said that without thinking..." he supplied lamely. Across the pasture, both Harry and Ron's mouths dropped open. Draco would have found the scene comical if it weren't for his present predicament.

 _Gods, they must think that I'm having a schizophrenic episode. Think, Draco! What WAS it that people say when their loved ones die?_

Draco was fortunate enough not to have witness any deaths in his immediate family during his young life, so he raked his mind to recall the only funeral that he ever attended when he was eight years old: the funeral of Nott Senior and Greengrass Senior.

"What I mean is…uh…" Draco ran a hand through his hair and did his best to keep his gaze steady on Hermione. They were so close that he could see the freckles that were sprinkled across her nose. He cleared his throat and his hands were firmly by his side.

"My condolences for your loss, but believe me when I say that I didn't wish for this to happen." he said with a slight bow in his head, much like what the adults did at the funeral, though in his memory, they had sounded much more deadpanned and apathetic. To his credit, the sincerity in his voice was evident.

Hermione gave him a narrowed and calculated look. "What are you playing at, Malfoy?" Her arms were crossed and she was clearly confused. "You almost sound genuine."

"I am being genuine." he replied softly, a barely audible mutter. He couldn't tell if she heard him, but her hazelnut orbs did soften, ever so slightly. A hint of a pout formed on her lips, and Draco could tell that her brain was churning with unanswered questions. He willed for her to throw every question at him with his eyes. His gaze was stormy as ever, his brows furrowed, conflicted over an internal struggle of whether to turn around and leave before he made more of a fool of himself, or to stay and see this hot mess through.

 _Oh, if only circumstances were different… If it were just me and Granger standing here, I would come clean and answer every single one of her questions. I'd tell her everything._

And even if there were two other people there with them, in that moment, the feeling to reach out to Hermione, to tell her the truth was so powerful that Draco was almost willing to let the two dunderheads stay… until that vulnerable moment was shattered.

"Fat chance!" Ron yelled.

It was as if someone had dumped an ice cold bucket of water over his head. Draco's heart dropped and the tender and tentative feeling that encouraged him to open up to Hermione dissipated as quickly as it came and his well-trained shields sprang into action, eager to protect his remaining shred of dignity. His mask of indifference returned and he easily slipped back into the comfortable façade that he displayed to the public on the daily.

"Don't listen to that slimy git, Hermione. He's faking it." Ron rushed over to Hermione's side, pointing an accusing finger towards Draco.

When Hermione looked unsure, unconvinced even, at Ron's accusation, Ron was exasperated. "Bloody hell! Hermione, you don't actually believe him, do you? He's a Slytherin! They're trained to lie through their teeth! I know exactly why he's here. He came to rub salt on our wounds, as if he hasn't done enough already."

 _Ginger prat had a knack of ruining everything._

"Consider this my only warning to you." Draco snarled, his disdain for Ron apparent, "Don't start something that you can't finish, Weasley. Particularly when you don't understand any bit of it. I've already explained to Granger that the trial had nothing to do with me."

Ron snorted and rolled his eyes. " Then at least your lies are consistent."

"You didn't tell us that Malfoy talked to you." said an astonished Harry before turning to Hermione, "When did you talk to Malfoy?"

Hermione opened her mouth and closed it, not knowing what to say.

 _Oh interesting, judging from her flabbergasted reaction, Granger didn't tell the two of our little meeting._

Harry and Ron continued questioning Hermione, and as they pushed Hermione further into the proverbial corner, Draco decided that he's had enough of Gryffindors for the evening. At this rate, they weren't going to accomplish anything but waste more time. The distrust was far too great between the two Houses. They weren't going to trust anything that he says. It was a case where action would speak louder than words, but he was out of time. Buckbeak was dead.

He breathed deeply through his nose and exhaled slowly with his eyes closed. He didn't need to explain himself to Potter and Weasley. This was supposed to be a conversation between Granger and himself and no one else. When his eyes opened again, they were locked with Hermione's and she could sense the disappointment, pain even, just through the emotions conveyed through his grey irises.

"You know what, I shouldn't have come. Forget that I even tried, Granger." he whispered bitterly. Without another word more, Draco turned his heels and started to sulk back over towards the castle.

 _What a waste of effort._

Draco fumed. This outcome wasn't worth his efforts writing to his Father only to be chastised for bringing something so trivial to his attention. There was no way that his Father was going to waste valuable time to reverse a court decision on the life of a mere livestock. Not to mention the strings that he would need to pull, and Merlin forbid if the _Prophet_ finds out! They would have a field day.

"Wait, I'm not done with you yet, Malfoy!" Ron was about to start after Draco but Hermione stuck out an arm and held him back. She shook her head.

"B..but-" Ron stuttered.

Draco didn't turn back nor dignified Ron's outburst with a verbal response. He only raised his hand in the air and elegantly moved it in a circular gesture as if to say 'whatever, carry on, you commoner'.

"Let him go, Ron." Hermione said firmly.

"You sure about this?" Harry asked.

"Yeah." She confirmed, feeling confused as ever as she watched Draco's retreating figure.

For the first time since having the misfortune of meeting him, Draco Malfoy seemed… real, and Hermione was inclined to believe him, just this once.

* * *

After Draco got back to the Castle, he went straight to Severus's office for their evening Occlumency session. He wasn't in the right state of mind for something like this, and it quickly showed under the experienced eyes of Severus Snape. Not even ten minutes into their session, his Godfather stopped him.

"Draco, I can tell that you have something on your mind and it's not something trifle that I can let slide. Something is really bothering you." Severus said as he lowered his wand.

Draco rolled his eyes and huffed, dropping himself into a chair across from his Godfather, who suddenly took interest in looking at something outside through the window. Draco was surprised though. Severus didn't look as displeased as he thought he would.

When Draco didn't respond, his Godfather continued, still with his attention divided. "Though I must give credit where credit is due. You did a good job with the shields, but concealing something so carefully with walls and barriers will only give away that you have something to hide. You have the basics down, next you'll need to learn how to deceive the Legilimens trying to crack into your head.-"

As Severus drawled on, Draco craned his neck to get a good look outside. It was nearly dark already, but from the faint light from the doorway, Draco was able to make out the figure of Professor Lupin, standing outside while studying a piece of parchment. Draco shrugged, the shaggy man was always a little bit strange. He absentmindedly examined his nails as Severus continued, "-You need to learn to fabricate memories in your head to lead them to dead ends, so that they will see what you want them to see, and they will believe what you want them to believe. But, more on that… later."

Severus's attention finally returned to Draco. Draco sat a little bit straighter and tried not to let the man's hard gaze have any effect on him.

"So, do you have something you want to share, Draco?" Severus prompt.

 _God damnit! No, I don't want to share! Why does Uncle Sev always catch me at my weakest moments?_

Time to pull another trick from the Slytherin handbook: When questioned about a sore subject, deny and feign innocence.

"I don't know what you're talking about." Draco replied smoothly, with a set of perfectly mastered raised eyebrows.

"Don't play me for a naïve fool," Severus warned. "You've gotten quite good at Occlumency, but with my skill as a Legilimens, I can still get past your defenses, albeit, with a little more effort. It's your choice, but just know that-" he paused and sighed, looking less stern. "-that I'll be here to help you, Draco, always."

 _Choice my arse! You already made it clear that you WILL get what you want from me, no matter willingly or unwillingly. Shite, how did I not realize sooner? Uncle Sev must be Father's spy. I'm sure of it. No wonder Father knows everything._

"Fine, I give up." Draco muttered and threw his hands up in defeat. "I'd like to save myself the splitting headache."

"Wise choice."

Unbeknownst to Severus, as Draco was explaining the events to him, he was multitasking. Draco buried any vulnerable memories with Hermione and any other memories he wanted to hide deep into the recess of his mind. He anchored the memories to different parts of his mind amongst the layers of inconsequential memories, effectively making all those memories concealed into the background. It will take a hell lot of time to peel back the layers of memories that are all camouflaged together, especially if you don't know where to look.

Draco allowed himself an inward smirk. Even if he was not yet at the level to be able to mislead a skilled Legilimens with fabricated memories, he'll sure make it difficult for anyone to find what he wants to hide.

What can he say? He had a talent for Occlumency and he learned from the best.

* * *

Severus looked weary as he pinched his nose bridge, feeling an onset of a headache.

"Draco, you know there are times when you can't save everything that you want to save." Severus sighed again, this time more heavily than the last. He looked as if he aged that instant. Draco could sense that there was a story behind those words, but he knew better than to prod.

He could only shrug. "Yes, well, it's all too late now anyway. The hippogriff is dead. To be honest, I don't even know why I care."

As Draco muttered under his breath about being 'such a damn Hufflepuff', Severus pulled something out from the depths of his cloak. The rattling sound of the chain caught Draco's attention and he saw that it was a pendant necklace with an hourglass contraption. Wait a minute, he's seen this pendant before…

"That looks familiar, I'm certain I've seen Granger with it."

Severus laid the trinket across carefully on the table before them.

"Yes, Miss Granger has been borrowing this for much of the school year. After her last final exam, which happened to be with me, I collected it from her to return it to the Headmaster. You're fortunate that I can help you with your troubles tonight, Draco, but don't bet your luck on it happening every time."

Draco nodded, eyes fixated on the pendant.

"Draco, this is a time-turner."

After another quick look again outside, Severus explained the mechanics of the time-turner to Draco, and with much added haste.

"It's now 8:55. I was to return the time-turner to Dumbledore this evening, but I'll send the Headmaster a Patronus that I'll be asking you to deliver the time-turner in my stead. I need to-"

Severus paused as a thought occurred to him. Draco felt like he heard him muttering the words 'full moon', and he followed the potion master with his eyes in silence as his Godfather ran over to his potion cabinet and grabbed a few unlabeled vials. Draco rarely saw Severus move with such a sense of urgency.

"-attend to something. Use this as an opportunity to do what you feel is right, Draco, and remember, don't be seen by anyone you have interacted with these past two hours. The laws are strict about time-traveling."

Draco nodded and stood up to get ready. As he turned the dial on the time-turner two times, he saw the ethereal doe erupting from his Godfather's wand before Severus rushed out the door.

* * *

 _Blasted bird._

Here he was, risking his neck and not to mention breaking dozens of magical laws for this hippogriff and the stubborn animal wouldn't budge.

"Come on you!" Draco grumbled angrily yanking on the leather lead that he had untied earlier from the post that Buckbeak was secured to. "If you don't want your head chopped off, you best come with me."

Buckbeak snorted and continued to peck at the Giant Pumpkins before turning his attention to the dead rats on the ground. Draco wrinkled his nose at the sight.

They didn't have that much time left. They only had a small window while Dumbledore and the people from the Ministry were in Hagrid's decrepit hut, signing the last bit of paperwork.

 _Okay, maybe I'll try a different tactic. Gods… I can't believe I'm sinking this low._

He wasn't sure it was going to work, but he's seen Hagrid do it and the bird seemed to respond well to it. He cleared his throat.

"Beaky, oh Beaky," Draco cooed with a sweet saccharine voice, "come over here, sweet bird."

Buckbeak cawed and threw his head from side to side as if he were laughing hard.

Draco stomped one foot angrily and threw some colorful words that he normally wouldn't use from his vocabulary. He was still spewing obscenities and thus didn't notice the shadow that crept over from behind the furthest giant pumpkin.

" _Malfoy!?_ " came an astonished hiss.

His heart almost stopped. He wasn't supposed to be seen. He swiveled around and out peering from behind a giant pumpkin were Hermione and Harry. Draco furrowed his brows.

 _Wait, at this time, Granger and Potter should have been bickering with me over beyond the hill… why were they here!?_

Then he realized it. His eyes snapped towards Hermione and there, on her chest, rested a time-turner. Hermione had a small "O' on her lips as she came upon the same conclusion.

Meanwhile, Harry, more focused on their mission, reached over and grabbed the lead from Draco. "Come on Buckbeak, we need to go. You're in danger." Buckbeak was no more cooperative for Harry. "Quit day dreaming, Hermione! Come help me!"

"Oh, right!" Hermione said, snapping out of it. Draco paled when he saw the girl reach down and picked up a few rats by the tail. She ran in front of the hippogriff and she used the bouquet of rats to lure Buckbeak out of the gate.

Draco had no choice but to follow them.

* * *

It was one crazy night. After waiting out in the Forbidden Forest for some time, they then had to rush inside Hagrid's house for cover from a werewolf. A WEREWOLF that was really Professor Lupin! Oh, Merlin! Wait until his father hears about this.

Shortly after, Harry had insisted on running out into the Forbidden Forest, even though Hermione strongly advised against it. Now it was just Hermione and Draco, Buckbeak and Fang in the living room, sitting on the floor by the warm fireplace. It had been eerie quiet for the past ten minutes after Harry had left, with only the crackling of the fireplace and the occasional ruffle of feathers that reminded them that time hadn't stopped to a complete still.

It was Hermione that broke the silence first. "Why are you here?" she asked.

Draco could tell it was bothering her from the way she was chewing on her bottom lip. He shrugged, "I told you, I had nothing to do with the trial. This proves it."

"I know that you didn't want the trial, you've established that weeks ago… so you didn't answer my question."

"Why am I here?"

"Yes."

Draco looked at the witch sitting cross-legged across from him, waiting expectantly for an answer. There was no one else but them right now. Well, technically there were was a boarhound and a hippogriff, but they can't understand humans, right? Should he tell her everything? After all, he wanted to just a few hours ago.

 _Because of you. I'm here because of you._

Draco really wanted to say those words, but in the end, he couldn't bring himself to do it. He was scared of how she would react. It was too quick and too soon. Draco couldn't realistically see any possible reaction from her other than rejection. So, he went with the next best answer from his heart.

"I didn't want them to kill Buckbeak." He offered her. There was no malice in his voice, and he once again, sounded completely genuine.

 _I know he's important to you, and I need to protect what is important to you. Because you are important to me._

Hermione's fingers fiddled with the laces on her trainers, but her eyes were locked on his face, analyzing his every expression.

"Who wanted to kill Buckbeak then?" she asked finally.

"Parkinson did. Pansy's father thought my father and I would thank him for it, but in reality it brought unwanted press and a shite ton of hassle for me. Which brought me here."

To emphasize his point, Draco shook the chain around his neck and the time-turner jangled.

Hermione's eyes widened as something connected in her mind. She gasped and sprang to her knees and crawled on all fours before she was right in front of Draco within a second, one hand reaching for the time-turner. Draco, who was taken aback immediately dropped the time-turner and had to hold himself up from falling backwards. The time-turner slipped from her fingers and Hermione practically fell into him after being off-balanced. She had to steady herself by grabbing onto his cashmere sweater clad shoulder.

Their eyes met for a long second.

Hermione's cheeks tinged a pretty shade of pink as she realized what a compromising position that they were in.

"Sorry-," she muttered, quickly straightening herself and turning her face away out of embarrassment. "-but I need to see that time-turner."

After getting his bearings, Draco smirked and sat back up bringing their bodies closer, yet again. He offered the time-turner to Hermione with the chain still around his neck. It was innocent enough, but if Hermione wanted a good look at it, her only option was to stay at a close proximity to him.

His smirk signaled a silent challenge and the Gryffindor wasn't about to give in. Hermione harrumphed and took the time-turner from him, trying to ignore how close they were sitting. She rarely sat this close to boys, and even then, it was with her closest guy friends.

She turned her attention to the pendant and she held her time turner right next to it. Her brows furrowed and Draco realized that there was a problem even before she opened her mouth.

"There's a problem isn't there?"

"Yes, I…I can't be certain that these aren't the same time-turners."

Draco froze. He realized her concern then, and it was a real cause for worry.

"Well, mine is for sure the time-turner that you've been using all year. Snape told me himself. The question is, if _yours_ is the same as mine… how'd you get it?"

"From Dumbledore…" Hermione whispered. She whipped out her wristwatch. The timeline from these past few hours was suddenly very important now. "We turned back time at 11:55. How about you?"

"8:55."

His mind worked quickly through what has happened in the last few hours, and they each took turns recalling their set of events. "We saw the execution around 7:45. I was back at Snape's office at 8:20."

"We chased down Ron's rat not long after the execution and got dragged into the Shrieking Shack by Sirius-"

"Wait, SIRIUS BLACK?!" Draco blurted.

"Yes, Sirius Black," Hermione snapped. "How many wizarding families do you know that would be crazy enough to name their child after astronomical objects?"

Draco look offended, but when Hermione giggled, he couldn't help but smile back. "As much as I'd love to educate you right now on the merits of having such a legacy to your given name, I recognize that we need to figure this out, so another time, Granger."

"Rain check, it is!"

Draco looked alarmed and pivoted his head towards the window. "There's no rain…?" he asked, perplexed.

"No, it's a muggle saying," Hermione said quickly. "Oh, never mind that."

Draco looked slightly peeved, but let it go for the sake of their current predicament. "Alright, what happened next? You were saying something about the Shrieking Shack."

"Okay, after we got taken there, we found out Ron's rat was really an Animagus, just like Black. Then, Harry and I were at the Black Lake…Merlin! What time was that?! Why didn't I keep track of time." Hermione moaned in despair.

Hermione seemed so distraught that Draco reached out, albeit hesitantly, and rested a hand on her shoulder. "It's okay," he breathed. "You don't need to remember every detail, just try your best to estimate. Snape left his office just after 8:55. My guess is he suspected that Lupin was up to something."

Hemione nodded and her nerves surprisingly settled. She took a deep breath and continued. "Okay, judging from the amount of time we were in the shrieking shack, before Snape decided to show himself, I'd say it was at least 10:00 by the time we were at the Black Lake. Then, Harry and I were out cold from the dementors and we woke up in the hospital wing around 11:45. Sirius Black should have been taken into custody and locked up in Professor Flitwick's office around 11:00."

Draco was unsettled at the thought of Hermione facing Dementors, but he kept quiet. His lips were pressed into a thin line.

Another glance at her wristwatch and Hermione continued, "Okay, it's almost 10:00. We need to decide what to do to make the timeline work. If this IS the same time turner, it's imperative that you get back to the castle and hand your time-turner to Dumbledore so that he can later give it to us at 11:55, or else, there would be a really big problem. Did anyone see you when you went back to the Castle?

"No, I went straight to Snape's office to discuss something with him. No one saw me. My segment of the timeline is essentially complete already, save passing the time-turner to Dumbledore."

Hermione nodded in agreement. She jumped up to her feet and crossed her arms. "Oh, where is Harry!?" she cried impatiently. "We only have 45 minutes left to get back!"

As if right on cue, Harry burst into the cottage spewing on and on about casting a Patronus.

But they didn't have time to dwell on that. They needed to get back to the Castle. Oh, and save Sirius Black in the process.

* * *

They didn't think it would be more difficult to usher Buckbeak back outside, but it was. For a creature that liked to fly in the infinite sky, Buckbeak seemed to be unwilling to move away from the toasty warmth of the fireplace, but somehow, they finally got him to cooperate. When they were outside, they huddled in a patch of darkness behind the house that allowed them to be out from direct view of the Castle. Hermione quickly briefed Harry through their options.

"No. No. No." Harry paced back and forth and chanted the word like a prayer. Finally, realizing that Hermione was serious about her proposal, he spun around and asked heatedly, pointing at Draco for emphasis, "Why does _he_ get to ride Buckbeak to save Sirius?"

"Because we don't have _time_ Harry! And we all can't fit on Buckbeak. Be reasonable. Malfoy needs to get back to the castle and give Dumbledore his time-turner so that _we_ can use it. We can't screw it up the sequence of events! Both Malfoy and I agree that there is a large possibility that these two time turners are one and the same, just from different timelines. Malfoy will need to ride Buckbeak back to the Castle to get a head start on locating Dumbledore, and if Malfoy takes Buckbeak, we only have just enough time to get back to the Hospital Wing on foot from here."

"But how can we _trust_ him? Sirius is my _Godfather_. His life is on the line… they're going to give him the Kiss, Hermione!"

Draco stepped in. "Hate to break it to you, Potter, but Sirius is related more to me than he is to you. He and I are _blood_ related. He's my mother's first cousin, and I can bet my whole Quidditch collection that I know more stories about him than you do. You literally _just_ met him and may I remind you that just a few hours ago, you knew him to be the man that played a key role in the murder of your parents."

Harry didn't have anything to say to that, but it was obvious that he needed more convincing.

"Harry," Hermione urged with pleading eyes, "Malfoy's right."

 _Damn right I am._

Draco puffed his chest out and cocked an eyebrow at him. Harry exhaled from his mouth loudly and rolled his eyes. Lucky for them, Harry wasn't a man without reason and he has never doubted Hermione's intuition and he wasn't about to start now.

"Alright, Malfoy goes with Buckbeak. That's if he'll let him, of course." Harry turned to Draco, with an amused grin. "Oi, Malfoy, you'll need to bow to him. Remember what we learned from class?"

Draco looked offended at the notion and he mumbled automatically, "Malfoys don't bow to domesticated animals."

Hermione punched him in the arm. Draco yelped and rubbed the sore spot.

"Excuse me, but Buckbeak is not a domesticated animal!" she huffed indignantly. "He is a beautiful, wild and free magical creature. Quit your superiority complex, Malfoy, because bowing to such a creature is a sign of respect. It does not mean you are inferior to him nor him superior to you." She gave Malfoy a hard shove in the back. "Now go! Remember the reason why you're here."

"Oh, all right." muttered, defeated.

Draco stood in front of Buckbeak and Buckbeak watched him curiously. Buckbeak pawed at the floor a few times with his talons and Draco's eyes followed the movement. It was as if Buckbeak was warning him. Any sign of insincerity and he was going to let Draco have at it a second time.

Draco chuckled, "I remember your mean kick, Buckbeak."

Without another word, he bowed.

"Wow, he really did it." he heard Harry say.

Draco didn't know if thinking his intentions would help convey his sincerity at all, but he did it anyway.

 _I really did want to save you, Buckbeak. Now, please let me ride you to save Sirius. He's family._

To their surprise, Buckbeak bowed back.

* * *

Riding Buckbeak was similar to riding one of the Abraxans from his family stable, but much more exhilarating.

While on a Winged Horse, he always felt in control through the reins in his hands. Those horses were trained to react to even your slightest command. On the other hand, with Buckbeak, the control was with the hippogriff, but there was a mutual respect involved. Buckbeak respected him enough to take him where he requested to go, and Draco had to trust Buckbeak not to throw him off his back.

Draco reached Sirius in no time and Sirius was beyond surprised. He recognized Draco as a Malfoy through his trademark hair.

"You're… Cissa's kid, aren't you?" he breathed as Draco helped the frail man onto Buckbeak. Once Sirius was settled, Draco had Buckbeak move towards Severus's office.

"Yes Sir. The one and only Draco Malfoy, in the flesh. I suppose I should call you Uncle Sirius?"

"Drop the 'uncle'. Just Sirius is fine. I was never one for formalities."

"I know that much. Mother has told me a lot about you."

"Yes, Cissa has always been kind to me even when the rest of the Blacks turned their backs on me."

Draco hopped off Buckbeak and into the open window of Severus's office.

"She's been worried about you ever since she read about your escape from Azkaban. She tried to get information of your whereabouts, but you basically eluded even the best sleuth galleons could hire. No one could find a solid trace of you. Mother would be thrilled to hear from you once it's safe to do so."

Sirius nodded. "I'll write to her as soon as I can." He looked fondly at Draco and grasped Draco's hand in his. His eyes were shinning with gratitude. "Thank you, boy… truly. You've never even met me, yet you're… here."

"Bloods runs deep." Draco replied with a smirk. "But I owe a cut of the credit to Potter and Granger. Now go, you don't have much time before they find out you're gone."

Sirius nodded. "Give my thanks to them." He gave Buckbeak a pat and a nudge and they were off.

Once Sirius was so far off in the distance that Draco couldn't see him anymore, he left in search for Dumbledore.

Surprisingly, the Headmaster was in his office, the first place that he had checked.

"I was waiting for you, Mr. Malfoy." Dumbledore said, with a twinkle in his eye. He pushed a container of sweets to Draco. Draco shook his head, declining the offer. "Severus said that you were going to stop by. I was beginning to think that you weren't going to come."

"Sorry for the wait, I wasn't feeling myself after supper and decided to take a nap to sleep it off." Draco fibbed easily. "Somehow I lost track of time. I hope that you will excuse me for being out past curfew, but I knew it was important to get this back to you." Draco silently prayed that Dumbledore wouldn't press any further.

Dumbledore smiled mysteriously at Draco and stood up. He gestured for Draco to stand and follow him to the door.

"Well then, Mr. Malfoy, since your mission is complete, let's get you back to your dormitory for some much needed rest. You've out done yourself today." Dumbledore gave Draco a few solid pats on the shoulder. Draco tried to stay as relaxed as possible. He can't let the man see that he was uncomfortable.

"Yes, you know, it was the last day of final exams. They're tiring and all."

Dumbledore chucked. "Yes, of course. There's that."

Draco stepped out of the circular staircase first before the Headmaster emerged after him.

"I guess I'll leave now." Draco said, turning towards the direction of the Slytherin dungeons.

"Oh, Mr. Malfoy?" Dumbledore said, stopping him. "Here's a souvenir for you. It was stuck on your jumper."

Draco looked at the object held between Dumbledore's outstretched hand. Pinched between his thumb and index fingers was a single gray downy feather. It must have come from Buckbeak when he was riding him back to the Castle.

"Erm, thanks? Dunno how that got there. Maybe it's from my duvet as I was packing." Draco muttered and took the feather.

"Of course." Dumbledore agreed, almost too pleasantly. "Well, look at the time, it's 11:40 already. I need to be heading to the infirmary now. Best you head back to bed Mr. Malfoy." He shook his head sadly. "What terrible luck for Miss Granger and Mr. Potter to spend the last night at Hogwarts in the infirmary. Do take care, Mr. Malfoy."

Draco nodded and watched Dumbledore take a few steps in the other direction. Before the Headmaster walked four steps, Draco felt the need to say something.

"Professor, wait!" he blurted out. "I had help. I couldn't have done it alone."

Dumbledore turned around with a serene and satisfied smile.

"Understood. You'll find that help will always be given at Hogwarts to those who ask for it."

Draco could only stare.

"Thank you, Mr. Malfoy. Goodnight."

* * *

A/N: Wow! This chapter was a monster to write. I hope you enjoyed reading it. I don't know if it's possible in canon for a time turner to be used twice like this within the same overlapped timeline, but somehow it works in my head because the timeline was still sequential and causational. If you don't agree with this, please assume there were TWO separate time turners. Hermione/Draco just didn't know for sure.

This concludes my rendition of the third book. In the next chapter, Hermione will start to realize that maybe there is more to her family history than meets the eye.

Please be excited for it!

Take care,

~Cookie


End file.
